


The Hitman and The Heartbreak Kid

by MaximusMeridian, Sinderella (Rainia_Nytewolf1)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Assertive Affection, BDSM overtones, Blowjobs, Choking, Dialogue Heavy, Edited for clarity, I'm Bret, It's a thing alright?, M/M, Max is Shawn, Montreal Screwjob, Owen is Max's Emotional Support Canadian, Submissive Shawn, roleplay based
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaximusMeridian/pseuds/MaximusMeridian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainia_Nytewolf1/pseuds/Sinderella
Summary: Based off an RPMaximusMeridianand I have going on Discord. Begins in '96, after the Curtain Call.
Relationships: Bret Hart/Shawn Michaels, Past Kevin Nash/Shawn Michaels/Scott Hall | Razor Ramon, Past Shawn Michaels/Marty Janetty, Scott Hall | Razor Ramon/Kevin Nash
Comments: 16
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

Shawn couldn’t tell you when it happened. He didn’t know when shouting and arguing turned into playfully bickering. He didn’t know when he started seeking Bret out backstage to ask his opinion about a match. Or when the other man didn’t turn him away but actually became willing to speak to him

Joanie and Hunter tried to discourage him from pursuing the man, but he’d always had a way of chasing men he shouldn’t. The more he was led astray, the more he wanted. It came to a head one night when Bret slammed him against a wall, demanding to know what Shawn was playing at. And he’d... well, he’d apologized.

Right before kissing him.

When the Canadian stepped back in surprise, Shawn took the bit of room to bolt before Bret could start swinging. That was last week at the RAW taping. Now, a week later, he was trying desperately to avoid anyone with the name Hart. He didn’t know what Bret told his brothers and he didn’t really want to be caught alone with any of them for being... well, gay.

Bret pinched the bride of his nose and sighed as Owen cornered him in his dressing room. “Why the hell is Michaels avoiding you?”

“He thinks I want to punch him. Or that you, Davey or Jim are going to.” When the younger Hart looked confused, he huffed in irritation before admitting in a low voice, “he kissed me last week.”

“Oooh, sounds like someone else has a crush too,” Owen said in a sing-song tone, grinning at the annoyed look his brother shot him. “You going to go after that?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fuck off, Owen. How’s that for an answer?”

“Oh come on, man! We all know you’ve got a thing for him and clearly, he’s interested right back. So why aren’t you going for it?” When his brother refused to answer and instead moved to leave, Owen followed. “If this is about what happened with you and Julie- “

“What happened with Julie and I has nothing to do with this.” Bret sighed, stopping just before opening the door. “For all I know it could’ve been a joke. He bolted like a fucking spooked deer.”

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Hunter pointed out, leaning against a locker while Shawn finished getting ready for his match.

Shawn scoffed as he laced up his boots. “I can try,” he argued, “Bret isn’t like me, Hunter, and he’s not okay with it like you are. I just… I don’t want to fuck things up anymore than I already have. I thought he and I were becoming friends, you know? God, I’m so fucking stupid, I screwed everything up.”

“You really shouldn’t make assumptions about people, Shawn,” Hunter reminded gently, sighing quietly when his best friend didn’t seem to really be listening. “Look, Joanie and I have your back if the Harts really do try to come after you, but I think you should at least talk to him.”

“Look, if Bret cares enough to come find me, great,” Shawn replied with a headshake as he straightened up, “but until then, can we maybe forget about it?”

Moving through the backstage area, Bret resisted the urge to toss his brother in a trash can or something. Maybe a wall. “Will you leave me alone?”

“Listen, if I wasn’t married? I’d have gone after him by now.”

“I’m going to tell Martha that,” he threatened, only to be taken aback when his brother shrugged indifferently.

“She knows.”

That brought Bret up short, causing him to turn an incredulous look on his baby brother. “Seriously?”

“What? She thinks he’s cute,” Owen replied with another shrug. “If anyone’s telling her anything, I’m telling her you’re being too chicken to go after him.”

“I am not!”

“You know you can’t exactly hide in the locker room all night,” Hunter pointed out. “Your match is next, Shawn.”

“I know that!” Groaning miserably, Shawn resisted the urge to rub his face or mess up his hair. “Jesus, Hunter, the Harts could ruin my career. They’re huge in this industry.”

“Pretty sure if they were going to do that, you’d already be done for.” Rolling his eyes, he opened the door and ushered his friend out. “Come on.”

Grumbling unhappily, the Texan stomped out of the room. He knew he probably looked like a sulking child, but he also didn’t care.

Noticing as Shawn left the communal locker room, Owen forcibly turned his brother in the man’s direction. “If you’re not chicken, go talk to him,” he challenged obstinately.

“I…”

“Am chicken.”

Growling as he took a swing at Owen, which was dodged with a laugh, Bret huffed. “I’m going!”

When Bret didn’t move, his brother shoved him pointedly. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Fuck. Off,” the elder Hart grumbled in annoyance as he moved to go catch up to Shawn.

Shawn crossed his arms over his chest, bouncing on his heels with nervous energy. Five minutes, that’s all he had until his match where he could continue avoiding the Hart’s. With Hunter and Joanie on either side of him, he felt a little better but not much. “I hate this,” he mumbled under his breath as he reached up to fiddle with his hair.

“Oh for- would you please relax?” Joanie asked, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “None of the Hart’s are even here right now, and Davey’s out in the ring. I think you’re safe.”

“He doesn’t scare me! Anvil and Bret? Those two are scary.”

Overhearing the last comment as he approached, Bret snorted in amusement. “I didn’t think I was that scary, but I’ll take it,” he remarked dryly.

Shoulders sinking as his arms dropped back to his side, Shawn turned slowly to face the Canadian. “Only sometimes, Bret. Only sometimes.”

Taking in the suddenly dejected body language, the Canadian sighed. “I’m not here to punch you, or yell at you, or whatever else you think I’m going to do,” he replied patiently. “Look… come find me after your match, okay? We need to talk, just the two of us.”

“Bret –, “Whatever Shawn was about to say was interrupted by a tech calling for his music, causing him to curse quietly before nodding. “Okay, yeah. After,” he agreed before he was hurried through gorilla and into the arena.

Waiting until his best friend was completely out of sight, Hunter turned his attention to Bret. “Take it easy on him, alright? Tough as he acts, Shawn’s… fragile, so be careful.”

“How much of an asshole do you think I am, Levesque? I’m not planning on doing anything terrible.”

“I know you won’t intentionally, and you’re not an asshole unless you’re trying to be. I’m just asking you to try and not be one.”

“I’ve got no reason to be, so he’s safe.”

Satisfied with the answer for now, Hunter nodded. “I didn’t think you would, but I just wanted to make sure,” he stated as he turned and began to head towards the locker room. 

Joanie lingered briefly, glancing towards the gorilla position before focusing on Bret. “Shawn can be difficult to read,” she offered quietly, “but you can come to us with questions.”

Maybe for you two, Bret thought but nodded in thanks anyway. Owen offered him a thumbs up and a cheeky grin, which he responded to with a middle finger as he headed back to his own dressing room.

Twenty minutes later, Shawn walked backstage a little stiff thanks to an unexpected back breaker from his opponent. Wanting nothing more than to go to his locker room to get cleaned up before heading to the hotel, he turned for Bret’s instead. He could at least hear the man out, he supposed, even though the thought was terrifying. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door with some hesitation. “Bret? It’s Shawn.”

“Come on in, it’s unlocked.”

Shawn opened the door cautiously, peering inside to confirm they were indeed alone before stepping inside and making sure the door closed behind him. “So… you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” Bret took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m not mad about that kiss,” he began, before huffing in impatience with himself. “Look, if it was just a way to shut me up or something, I’ll forget it happened and let it go. But if it wasn’t… well, what was it?”

“It was…,” Shawn started, obviously hesitant as he weighed his options. He could say it was nothing, laugh it off and walk away, no harm no foul. “You asked me what I was after and why I was suddenly being so friendly but I… if I tell you the truth, you’ll probably hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Shawn. Or anyone else here.” Bret paused as he reconsidered. “Sure, there’s some people that I find annoying as fuck, but that’s anywhere. Even up in my dad’s old promotion.”

“Right.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Texan sighed. Great, now, not only was his back hurting, but so was his head. “So you just happen to call everyone a whiny, prissy bitch?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“Well, I call Owen that a lot.”

A small, unwilling laugh escaped Shawn. “Jesus, Bret.”

“You’ve got siblings, you know how it is.” Bret sighed as he crossed his own arms. “I haven’t called you that in a while anyway. Stop evading.”

“I’m the youngest of four,” he agreed with a chuckle that died just as fast as it had escaped. “I kissed you because I wanted to. I have for a while now. It’s just… you already looked like you were going to kick my ass, so I figured I might as well earn the ass beating.”

The Canadian studied him for several long moments. “I’m not being the other person,” he finally stated. “So if you’re already with someone, it’d be better for you to stop pursuing me.”

“Why would you think I was with someone else?” Shawn questioned in confusion, frowning. “I don’t… I’m not great at sharing. Couldn’t expect someone else to be either.”

“Just making sure.” Bret shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s made a pass at me while already in a relationship.”

“Wait. So you… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused here, Bret. Are you letting me down easy or what is this? I kinda need you to be straight forward about this.”

“Look, it’s like this, alright? If you’re seriously interested in pursuing something with me, then I’m interested right back. If this is some kind of game to you, I’m telling you now: it won’t end well.” He huffed, telling the voice in his head that sounded like Owen to fuck off. “That’s me.”

Shawn stared at him dumbly, his mind slowly processing what the other man had just said. Bret who, until this moment, he’d thought was totally straight. Bret was interested… in him? “Why?” he questioned before he even realized the word had left him.

“What the hell do you mean, why?”

“Why would you actually be interested in me?” Shawn clarified before a thought occurred to him. “Y’know, if this is about sex, you don’t have to act interested.” He shook his head, not looking at Bret. “Just say it straight out.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Bret challenged, shaking his head in disbelief. “And Jesus, Shawn, if all I wanted was a piece of ass, don’t you think I’d have asked by now?”

“The whole sleeping around thing never worked for me.” A short, bitter laugh. “You wind up with feelings for guys who just want a piece on the road and then go back to their perfect little wives and families…” Shawn swallowed hard before adding, “I’ve got a room to myself tonight. You can come by and we can order room service or whatever… and talk. See if you- we actually want to do this?”

“Yeah, well, you won’t have to worry about that with me. The ex-wife and I aren’t even friends,” the Canadian replied honestly before shrugging. “Sure, I’ll come by.”

Shawn nodded absently, still somewhat in shock. “Cool. I’m in 217, so just come by whenever.”

“Why don’t you just ride with me?” Bret offered after mentally arguing with himself for a split second. “I can pawn Owen off on Davey and Jim.”

Quickly snapping back into focus, the Texan blinked at him in surprise. “Oh. Uh, yeah, okay. Um, give me ten minutes to get cleaned up and I’ll meet you back here?”

“Sure, gives me time to get them to take Owen.” He made an annoyed noise in his throat as he imagined his brother’s reaction. “God, he’s going to be absolutely insufferable from now on.”

“Yeah, Hunter’s been just as bad,” Shawn replied with a laugh. “It’s been a nightmare dealing with him and his nonsense over all this.”

Turning to grab his bag, Bret sighed. “At least you didn’t have your brother saying how if he wasn’t married, he’d be chasing after you. My sister-in-law too, apparently.”

“Well, that’s new. Usually it’s only one half of the married couple that likes me.”

“Martha’s got a thing for pretty boys I guess,” the Canadian replied with a shrug, half smiling. “And some of the antics you get up to on TV are similar to some of Owen’s pranks, so maybe that’s it.”

With a cocky smirk, Shawn chuckled. “Maybe,” he conceded, turning to quickly step out of the locker room. “You can tell them I’m flattered, but I prefer brunettes.”

Rolling his eyes in unwilling amusement, Bret shook his head as he followed to go find his wayward brother. “See you in a bit, then.”

Walking back to his dressing room in stunned silence, Shawn tried to process what had just happened. Did he actually have a date with Bret Hart? What the fuck was happening here? Quickly explaining everything to Hunter and Joanie as he cleaned himself up, he told them to take the car as he’d be riding with Bret. Ten minutes later, he was back at Bret’s dressing room with his bag over his shoulder.

Having successfully pawned Owen off on Davey and Anvil, Bret raised his eyebrows at Shawn inquiringly as he approached a moment later. “Ready?”

“Yep. I let Hunter and Joanie know I’d be with you and I don’t smell like sweat and ring dust anymore,” Shawn replied with a nod. “So… let’s go.”

“I’ve smelled worse,” the Canadian remarked conversationally, jerking his head in the direction of the exit as they fell into step together. “You never trained in the dungeon, but I can assure you: nothing smells that bad.”

“You’ve obviously never been in a wrestling gym in Texas in the middle of summer. We had no A/C for a week, and it smelled like a whole family of skunks died in there.”

“The dungeon is in the basement of my parents house, and it was normally packed to as full as he could get it.”

“Alright, so we’ll agree they both sucked major ass,” Shawn decided with a small laugh. “Both were terrible.”

Bret nodded, a genuine laugh escaping him. “Yeah, I think that’s a safe thing to agree on.”

Shawn faltered for a minute, stunned by hearing Bret laugh. It was a nice sound, he decided, since the other man often sounded hoarse. Especially after a match. “You have a nice laugh.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks?”

“That was supposed to be a compliment,” Shawn remarked with a chuckle, absently chewing on his bottom lip. He hadn’t been this nervous talking to someone since… Jesus when he’d started dating Marty.

“I know that,” Bret snapped before sighing at himself for it and shaking his head regretfully. “Sorry, it’s just… been a while since I’ve talked to anyone who wanted more than to be able to say they’d bedded the hitman.”

“Well, don’t worry. I don’t kiss and tell,” the Texan promised. “I think that’s a perk of being the dirty little secret in the past. Learned to keep my mouth shut.”

Fishing the keys for the rental from his pocket, the Canadian looked at him pointedly. “I hope you know I don’t expect you to act like a dirty little secret, or that I’d treat you like one,” he stated as he opened the trunk for them to toss their bags in. “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. So long as you and I know the truth? That’s all that matters.”

“Sounds like dating. Haven’t done that since… ’92.”

Slinging his bag into the trunk, Bret shrugged. “I guess? I haven’t done that since… well, longer than it’s been for you, let’s just say that.”

Laughing nervously as he tossed his bag in next to Bret’s, Shawn didn’t look at him. “Yeah, let’s not call it that maybe. Feels too much like pressure.”

“Why's everything got to have a name?" Bret wondered out loud as he closed the trunk and moved towards the driver’s seat. "Until we know where we stand, we just won't call it anything."

“Just hanging out,” the other man offered as he moved to open the passenger side door. “And I’m buying dinner. You’re driving me back to the hotel so. Fair trade, I think.”

“Works for me.”

Opening the door, Shawn winced as he bent to get in the car. “Ow, ow, ow,” he muttered quietly, finally settling and meeting Bret’s startled gaze. “What?”

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. My back hurts that’s all. Pop some pain meds when I get to my room and I’ll be fine.”

Looking him over for a minute more, Bret finally nodded as he started the car. “Ok, if you say so,” he agreed as he put his seat belt on.

“Took a back breaker in the ring and the asshole didn’t give me any heads up,” Shawn explained, rubbing his shoulder with a sigh. “That’s one thing I can definitely give you credit for, Bret. I’ve never walked away hurt from a match with you. Achy, sure, but never truly _hurt._ ”

“That’s the one thing I pride myself on more than anything, is that I’ve never hurt my opponent. Accidents happen but I’ve never set out to hurt someone,” Bret stated by way of agreement. “Guess that’s a side benefit of doing this since I was like four or five. It’s become second nature to me.”

“No matter how pissy people think I am, I’ve never tried to hurt someone. I’ve wanted to be the best since I was a kid, looked up to people like Hogan and Savage. Until I found out what a dick Terry is,” Shawn amended with a scoff, shaking his head. “Learned pretty quickly why they say don’t meet your heroes.”

“Terry is a piece of work, alright,” the Canadian agreed with a small laugh. “Savage isn’t too bad. Only one I can say for sure I never really liked was Snuka. He just seemed off to me. Then, when that whole thing happened with his girlfriend? That never sat right with me.”

“He just acts off every time you see him,” the Texan replied with a nod. “I thought Flair might be a prick the one time I met him, but he bought me a drink instead.”

"By himself, Flair isn't too bad. Get him around a bunch of people, especially women, and he can be insufferable."

“Always thought it was funny how much WWF guys hate WCW guys. Three of my best friends have come from there.”

Bret shrugged. "Nature of the beast. WWF is a bigger promotion, which means more money and exposure compared to places like WCW. Then when WCW people come here, the others view them as competition. Probably the reverse too."

“Makes sense.” Shawn sighed. “Doesn’t mean it’s right though. Guys work at the company that takes them in. It’s no different than running the indies. Just make more money.”

"Didn't say it was right, it's just how it is," the Canadian stated pragmatically. "WCW has been trying to lure me away for about a year or so now."

“Are you thinking about it?” the Texan questioned hesitantly. _Leave it to me to try and get involved with a guy right before he leaves the company._

"Fuck no," Bret dismissed instantly. "Happy where I am for the time being. No wife, so don't need the time off they're offering, and the money isn't any different than here."

_Well, that’s a relief._ “Glad to hear it. Would suck for us to start hanging out and then bam! You’re leaving.”

"They're not really trying, just kind of letting me know the offer is on the table." He rolled his eyes as he pulled into their hotel. "Sooner go back to Calgary."

“I keep telling myself I’ll play tourist one day when we’re in Canada,” Shawn said thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen anything except from the airport to the hotel then to the arena. In any city up north really.”

Parking, Bret turned the car off with a small shrug. "Things work out, maybe I'll show you around one day.”

“Could be fun,” the other man replied with a small smile as he undid his seat belt. “Bet you’d actually get recognized more than me for once.”

“Probably. I don’t really mind most of the time, though it can get kind of wearing. It used to drive my ex crazy.” Bret scoffed. “Small wonder we got divorced, huh?”

“Do you think maybe suplexing her had anything to do with it?”

“She volunteered for the spot, but you’re right, didn’t exactly help matters.”

Grabbing their bags from the trunk, Shawn led them inside to the elevators and then down to his room. “Make yourself at home,” he offered, dropping his bag on the desk before walking over to the king-sized bed and sitting on it cross legged.

Dropping his bag beside Shawn’s, Bret took a cursory glance around the room before landing on the other man. “So. Guess we need to talk about something besides work, huh?”

“Guess so. You get to find out pretty quick that I’m pretty boring outside of work.”

“Makes two of us,” the Canadian agreed as he moved to sit in the solitary chair that seemed to be in every hotel room in America and making himself comfortable. “Getting too old for the bar scene and it’s all the same anyway.”

“Never really liked the bar hopping game,” Shawn admitted, drumming his fingers absently on the bedspread. “Marty liked the party scene; Scotty liked the bars. I just sort of went along with it. Rather stay home and watch terrible movies all night long.”

Barely biting back a comment about Hall’s love of bars, Bret nodded. “It’s not a bad thing, being a homebody.”

“You wouldn’t think so, but it’s not ‘HBK’. People tend to lose interest pretty quickly because of it.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I’d rather know the person, not the persona.”

“Must be nice, being yourself on camera,” Shawn commented with a sigh. “In or out of the ring, you’re still just Bret.”

Bret shook his head. "It's not as easy as you might think. People make their assumptions based on how I act on camera, which isn't how I really am. Can't tell you how many times I've had people tell me they thought I was an asshole just from watching me on tv."

“Oh, trust me, I get that part. Jesus, I got punched in a bar once just for how I act on TV.”

“Guess that’s another reason not to go to the bars then.”

“Yeah, definitely spoiled any fun I did have in them.”

"Well, like I said, not my idea of a good time anyway." Bret lapsed into silence for a second. "So why me? Your friends hate me, you realize, so I'm not sure what the appeal is."

“There aren’t many people that are genuinely better than me in the ring,” Shawn explained. “And I admire that a lot in somebody. Add to that, I really do have a thing for brunettes... and I decided I like you. My opinion isn’t controlled by what my friends think.”

"Never said it was," Bret said after a moment of contemplation. "Just figured it might make things difficult if they decide to be assholes about it." He smiled crookedly. "And of course I'm better than you. I'm the best there is, best there was, and all that."

“Oh my god, don’t make me gag.” The Texan rolled his eyes, throwing a pillow at Bret’s head. “Had to give yourself the most obnoxious tagline in the company, didn’t you?”

Swatting the pillow aside with a laugh, the Canadian shrugged. "Between you and me? I think Owen's got the chance to be better, but it's not something he's really interested in doing long term."

“He really could be the best, but he wants to walk out in a few years right? Long as he retires young, you and I have a chance to of staying at the top.”

“Yeah, he wants to go be with his wife and kids while he’s still young and before they start school. He’s an absolute natural at this, but you can tell he’s not as serious about it as we are.”

“I can see him being a stay at home dad. You know, road trips, PTA meetings. Some people are just good at everything they put their minds to.”

Bret nodded. “He’s a great dad, I can’t deny that. Oje looks up to him like he’s a God or something.” A small chuckle. “Athena, man, that little girl has him so wrapped around her finger and she isn’t even a year old.”

“It’s good he’s got that kind of relationship with them and still manages to put so much effort into his work.”

“Martha would hand that boy his balls if he didn’t. She’s really serious about their family, kind of reminds me of my mom sometimes.” Clearing his throat, the Canadian sighed. “I’m sure you’ve probably got questions, so ask.”

“What kind of questions would I have?” Shawn raised an eyebrow. “We work together. I know like half of your siblings... I could ask if you’re a boxers or briefs guy, but we’ve all been in the big locker room before so.” He shrugged, thinking on it for a minute. “I guess I could ask... why did you marry your wife if you hated her?”

"We didn't always hate each other," he said after a minute. "Things just... soured. Can't pinpoint an exact thing or series of things. And I don't fucking know, things like what you expect out of... this." Bret waved a hand between them.

“Didn’t mean to touch a nerve,” Shawn said apologetically. “Guess I was just curious if it was like... well, you know.”

"It's fine. Had nothing to do with who I like to fuck if that's what you're thinking. More she felt I should do something else than wrestling, wanting kids, take your pick."

“No, no.” Shawn shook his head. “I just... I was wondering if it was something like Ma- uh, my last relationship.” He laughed a little then, rubbing the back of his neck. He hated how even five years on saying Marty’s name gave him some of the worst anxiety. Mentioning him always stemmed into bigger conversations that Shawn wasn’t sure he could have. Now or ever.

Bret looked at him silently for a minute. "Janetty really fucked you up huh?"

“And here I was hoping it wasn’t obvious,” Shawn said weakly, fidgeting a little side to side. “Then I remember that a lot of our fights happened at work and everyone knows. It’s most of why everyone thinks I’m a piece of shit backstage.”

"I've got eleven siblings, I can tell when someone's deliberately picking fights," Bret reminded him. "And that's exactly what he was doing, that's why I'd ignore it when you two would start in on each other."

“I always figured that was why you talked shit about me,” he admitted quietly. “You were like all the other guys and thought I was throwing temper tantrums.”

"Way I look at it, it wasn't my business what was going on with you two. You and I weren't friends or even close to it, and you're the closest thing to legitimate competition I have." Bret shrugged awkwardly. "Had nothing to do with you two fighting like cats and dogs."

“Well, you’re allowed to ask about it now,” Shawn offered. “Or any of the other stupid rumors about me. Basically... you get free reign to ask about stuff now. No point keeping anything off the table.”

"You can barely say the man's name and you want to talk about him?" Bret questioned, raising an eyebrow before shaking his head. "Let's not and say we did for now. Obviously you're not interested in a one-night stand so what are we talking about doing here, exactly?"

“It’s not about wanting to. It’s about trying to be honest about shit,” Shawn explained. “And you, Mr. Hart, are the one who said you could have gotten laid by now if you wanted. Trust me, ‘just a sex thing’ is easy.” Stretching back across the bed to grab the room service menu, he threw it blindly at Bret, lifting his head to see where it landed. “So how about you pick dinner?”

"You saying you'd have turned me down?" He questioned, bending down to pick up the menu that had landed at his feet.

“Honestly depends on my mood.” Shawn shrugged. “I might have. I might not.”

Bret snorted, shaking his head as he took in the menu. "You know, Davey told me to stop pulling your pigtails," he said after a second. "He almost got punched for it."

Shawn raised an eyebrow at that. “Were you in denial or was he screwing with you? Hunter, Kev, Scotty. They all give me so much shit about you. It’s insane.”

Side-eying him briefly, Bret huffed in annoyance. "Bit of both," he finally admitted grudgingly.

“Is finding me attractive that bad of a thing?” Shawn questioned seriously. “Damn. You know, most guys at least say something like ‘just because I would fuck you, doesn’t mean I like you’.”

Tossing the menu aside for a second, Bret stared at him. "Jesus Christ, is your self confidence that fucking bad?" He questioned incredulously. "Of course it's not a bad thing. I wouldn't be here, possibly starting a fucking relationship with you if I didn't at least like you. Why else would Davey have said something about me pulling your pigtails?”

Faltering for a minute with a nervous laugh, he mentally cursed himself for being such an obvious mess into… hell, he couldn’t say dating. Not yet anyway. Just their first time hanging out alone together. “Didn’t think you’d get so heated about it. I’ll stop messing with you, man. Was just talking…”

"It's like this," Bret began after a second. "I'm not Janetty, I don't fuck around in any way. It wasn't until Julie and I agreed to split that I even slept with someone else. If really I wasn't interested, I wouldn't be here. Period. You don't have to put on some act, you don't have to be 'on' around me. I don't want that. I'm willing to give this as shot but only if I actually get to know what you're really like." Picking up the menu, he sat back in the chair with a small sigh. “That’s me.”

“I get that.” Shawn sighed before choosing to be honest. “And if you want ‘real’ and ‘no act’ then you should leave now. That’s as honest as I can be. Because fact of the matter is that the real me is a fucking train wreck on two legs. And if you don’t hate me yet, you would after five minutes.”

"Why don't you let me decide exactly what I can handle? So you're a mess. Big deal, who the fuck isn't? You can try and push me away but ask any of my siblings, or even Jim and Davey. They'll all tell you the same thing: if I decide I give a shit, I'm not budging."

"Julie and I only split because we were making each other miserable. She wasn't happy, and nothing I tried was making her happy. I wanted it to work but not at the expense of giving up the one thing I've done literally my whole life." Bret tossed the menu back at him. "Order whatever, I can't even concentrate on the damn thing right now."

“Okay okay!” Shawn exclaimed, taking the menu, and scurrying up the bed to the pillows so he could call. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then he was calling down to room service. “Yes, I know it’s an odd order for midnight, but I work the night shift, sweetheart. Gimme a break. Ugh, fine. Yes I’ll pay the extra fee. Just charge it to the room. Twenty minutes? Thank you.”

_What the fuck happened to you?_ Bret wondered silently, straightening in the chair when his back began to protest his position. The other man was nothing like what he’d expected, but if he were honest with himself, he hadn’t really known what to expect.


	2. Chapter 2

Silence descended between the two of them, and Shawn had to resist the urge to fidget nervously. The moment room service knocked, he was up and across the room like a rocket. “Hi, thank you. Nope, I got it, thanks sweetheart. Have a good night, huh?” Pulling the cart into the room, he looked at Bret and gestured to the two plates. “Take a guess which is yours.”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s food,” Bret replied with a shrug.

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Shawn complained, uncovering one plate. “Ah, not this one, that’s French toast. Although, we could put maple syrup on it. Then it’s French-Canadian toast.” He grinned widely at his own dumb joke.

Ducking his head, Bret pinched the bridge of his nose to hide his reluctant smile. _God, this is going to be like dating Owen_ , he thought, almost laughing at the idea. "That was awful," he finally said, amusement creeping into his tone against his will.

Laughing, the other man shrugged, still proud of himself for the bad joke. “Couldn’t help it. The other plate is a protein platter: eggs and sausage with toast and grits. But I’ll share my French toast if you need something sweet,” Shawn offered.

“No, it’s fine. The French toast is all yours.”

“I promise I won’t always make jokes about you being Canadian,” Shawn promised, settling back onto the bed with his plate and a happy sigh.

“I’ll just have to make jokes about you being from Texas if you do.”

“Your jokes aren’t nearly as funny.” Shawn shrugged as he poured syrup over his plate. “So, you don’t mind the whole breakfast at midnight thing, do you? I ordered you something real food-ish.”

“You must forget I’m related to Owen, I’m sure he could help me with some,” Bret remarked before shaking his head. “It’s not the first time I’ve done breakfast at midnight.”

“I do breakfast at night when I’m upset, or if it’s been a rough night. My head is a pretty loud place sometimes, so Kevin helped develop a system. Breakfast when I’m sad, pizza when I’m pissy.” The Texan shrugged again, smiling fondly at the mention of his friend. He loved Kevin, and in a way, he loved Scott too, though he’d never gone beyond occasionally joining them in bed together. They’d offered him a place within their relationship, but the idea of sharing a partner reminded him too much of Marty and his infidelity, so he’d turned them down. They were still two of his best friends, but he couldn’t imagine it being like that again.

Swallowing a bite of food, Bret nodded slowly. "I'll keep that in mind," he offered, not wanting to really discuss Shawn's relationship with the other two men. He knew, mainly from locker room gossip, that Shawn had slept with both of them, but he'd rather not dwell on it.

“There’s nothing there with them, you know,” Shawn pointed out. “Kev, Scott and I, we’re just friends, nothing else. You don’t have to do that little,” he gestured at Bret’s face, “you wrinkle your nose when you’re annoyed and your jaw twitches when you’re irritable.”

“I didn’t think you’d be coming after me if there was,” the Canadian replied, not admitting to the distinct sense of relief at the reassurance. “The three of us never got along, Nash, Hall and I.”

“I know,” Shawn agreed with a nod. ““They still don’t like you very much. Hell, when they found out I was even looking at you, Kevin wanted to beat your face in. I was a mess when me and Kev met. He looked out for me and I guess he got a little protective.” 

“Can’t imagine how he’s going to react to us actually together, especially if he wanted to beat my ass just because you were attracted to me.”

“Wasn’t really anything to do with you, though. More like me and… anyone. Didn’t help the locker room likes to exaggerate. A little bitch turns into a pathetic fag and feuds are made out of rumors. Way of the business, I guess.”

“One of the upsides of being in the Hart family, I suppose. Doesn’t matter who I screw, not many people are willing to dredge my name up.” Bret shook his head with a sigh. “I know Owen, Davey and Anvil will keep people from harassing you about being with me.”

“I’d be more scared of Diane,” Shawn remarked with a laugh. “Just sic her on anyone who wants to give us shit.”

“Her or Elizabeth. If they can keep Davey and Jim in line, pretty sure the WWF locker room wouldn’t have a chance in hell.”

“Diane has one hell of a bitch slap, and Elizabeth has Jim wrapped around her finger. Just let the two of them walk through a room and the boys will shake in their boots.”

“She felt bad for hitting you so hard, you know. We all told her it was nothing compared to some of the bumps any of us might take but she still felt terrible.”

“I know,” Shawn agreed with a chuckle. “She apologized like five times backstage. Davey finally told her I would’ve missed my cue if she hadn’t knocked some sense into me. It made her laugh, so I didn’t argue too much at the time.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“I was raised by a strong woman. Mrs. Hickenbottom would teleport to slap me if she found out I was going around disrespecting any woman.”

That made Bret laugh. “I’m sure the fact that she’s _very_ well protected was a bit of a deterrent too.”

“You Hart’s fucking multiply in the dark! Jesus, it’s scary sometimes, walking backstage and there’s just this horde of black and pink.”

"Believe me, I still don't know what the hell my parents were thinking, having twelve damn kids. I've got so many fucking nieces and nephews it's hard to keep track."

“Back home, you only hear about that kind of things with Catholics or Mormons. Spreading your seed across the land and all that jazz. Always seemed a little much.”

"It is a little much. I love my siblings but fucking hell," Bret said before laughing. "Maybe that's why I didn't want to have kids. Too worried I'd end up with a small army like my parents."

“Well, you know they make these great little things called condoms that can help prevent that,” Shawn pointed out reasonably.

"Yeah, because those are foolproof."

“I said they helped. Not that they were perfect.”

"Either way, it's not happening for me. My siblings can procreate all they want to carry on the name or whatever."

“Well that’s good to know because I ain’t a baby maker no matter how gorgeous I am,” Shawn told him laughingly.

Bret shook his head in amusement. "I have nothing for that," he finally said, throwing up a hand in defeat.

“Weak sauce.” Shawn tsked, shaking his head. “How are you gonna stick around if I’ve got you speechless and I’m still fully dressed? You gotta have some stamina, buddy.”

Rolling his eyes, the Canadian got up to put his now empty plate on the tray. "If you think my stamina is the problem, you're in for a surprise when we finally do end up having sex."

“Well I hope so because right now,” The Texan gave a loud yawn. “You’re more like a lullaby, baby.”

"Yeah well, it's not happening tonight anyway."

“Well, of course not. All that’s happening tonight is me with a few soma and Vicodin and crashing for eight hours.”

"Jesus." Bret shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "You've got to get your back looked at if you're having to take both."

“It’s only cause of the match tonight.” Shawn shook his head dismissively. “I ask guys not to go after my back and they decide to use every move in the book on me.”

Staring at him skeptically for another minute, Hart shrugged it off. "If you say so. I'm heading back to my room to crash then."

“Aww no sleep over?”

"What, you can't ask?"

“Didn’t know if you had a no sleeping over before the first date rule. Wanted to be polite.”

"Is that your way of saying you want me to stay?"

“I’m a cuddler. That going to be a problem?”

“It’s fine.”

“Want me to walk you out? We’ll save cuddling for later down the line, hm?”

"If you want me to stay, I'll stay."

Shawn stood up, shaking his head. “Nope. I’m kicking you out. Sorry, kid. Nothing personal. But I’ve got this hot guy I’m trying to start something with, and he seems like the jealous type. Can’t have you around getting the wrong idea.” He grinned, winking playfully.

"If anyone's the 'kid' here, it's you," Bret replied with an amused huff as he headed towards the door.

“Whatever.” Shawn waved him off dismissively, opening the room door. “I’ll see you later, Bret.”

Grabbing his bag, he paused for a second, considering. Mentally shrugging to himself, Bret reached out suddenly and pulled Shawn into a brief, demanding kiss. "Night kid," he said when they parted.

“I never took you as a cheat, Bret,” Shawn whispered, startled by the sudden kiss, absently biting his bottom lip. “But you definitely play unfair.”

"You kissed me first," Bret reminded him. "Seemed only fair."

“That was panic. I’m a much better kisser when not caught off guard or panicking.”

"If you say so. See you tomorrow."

“Bye Bret.” Shawn shook his head, closing the door behind the Canadian. “Well this has been a weird ass night.”

Stopping outside of his hotel room a few minutes later, Bret stopped suddenly just as he opened the door. _Did I really just agree to date Shawn Michaels?_

Waking up feeling Owen punching him in the arm, Bret automatically swung back at him, smiling grimly when his brother yelped and fell off the bed. “What do you want?”

“Just surprised you’re here is all,” Owen replied with a laugh as he got off the floor. “You always leave after sex?”

Sitting up, the elder Hart shook his head at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but all we did was talk. Clothes stayed on the whole time.”

“Well, that’s kind of disappointing, and now I owe Jim twenty bucks, thanks.”

“I… I think we’re dating.”

The younger Hart looked at him in surprise. “Dating?” Owen questioned, laughing when his brother nodded. “Do you even remember _how_ to date?”

“I will punch you again.”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Owen shook his head. “Hey, listen, if that’s what you want to do? More power to you guys.”

Saved from responding temporarily by the ringing of the phone, Bret reached over and picked it up. “Hello?”

“ _Hey, it’s Shawn. Uh, good morning?”_ A nervous laugh. “ _I wanted to see if you want to grab coffee or something before we hit the road.”_

"Hey, Shawn. Yeah, that works. Give me like twenty minutes? I still need to shower and get ready." Bret hesitated a second, not liking the look his brother was giving him. "You're welcome to come here and wait if you want."

_“Uh, sure. I can do that. I’ll swing by Hunter’s room on my way there just to sort of game plan.”_ A brief pause. _“Twenty minutes.”_

"Alright. See you then." Hanging up, he scowled at Owen. "What."

"You're really serious about this whole," Owen made a vague gesture, "thing with him, aren't you? It’s not just about sex?"

Clenching his jaw, Bret chewed over how to put it. "I'm at least willing to give it a shot and you know I don't do shit halfway." At his brother's nod, he continued. "So look, I need you to have my back with this."

"You're my brother, of course I've got your back. Tell me what you need from me."

"I need you, Davey and Anvil to get the locker room to leave him alone. He's going to get enough shit for being with me."

After a verbal ribbing from Hunter and Joanie, Shawn managed to escape and make his way toward Bret’s room. He paused before knocking, actually whispering out loud to himself. “Am I seriously doing this?”

Opening the door, Owen gave Shawn a friendly grin. "Hey man, how's it going?" He greeted as he held the door open for him. "Bret should be out in a second, but come on in."

“Hey Owen. It’s been a pretty normal day, all things considered.” Shawn laughed, stepping inside the room. “Hunter had to give me a whole load of mess before I was allowed to leave so I’ve already gotten a spiel.”

Owen laughed as well. "Don't worry, I'm not going to give you any shit," he promised, closing the door behind the other man. "But if you need help annoying him? Let me know, I've got plenty of tips and tricks."

“I made a great joke about French toast last night and Bret did not fully appreciate it.”

“Because it wasn’t funny,” Bret yelled from the bathroom.

“Fuck off, it was amazing!” Shawn insisted. “French Canadian toast? Dude, that’s gold! Peak humor.”

Owen laughed gleefully. “Oh man, I’ll have to remember that one. Oje will love it.”

“He’s two, Owen! That doesn’t count!”

“Hey, if you can make a kid laugh? You’re hilarious.”

“Kids are blunt critics,” Shawn agreed seriously. “They’ll tell you the _second_ they do something wrong. I had a four-year-old say my entrance from ‘Mania thirteen was stupid. I was heartbroken.”

“See? He gets it,” Owen explained as Bret came out of the bathroom fully dressed, shooting them a look that was both annoyed and amused at the same time.

“Shouldn’t you be bothering Davey and Anvil by now?”

“But it’s so much more fun to bother you, big brother!”

“He has a point, Bret. You get irritated. Davey just curses a couple times and walks off, while Anvil might just throw me.”

“Anvil will throw you,” Bret had to agree as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on. “Only thing that’s stopped him from throwing Owen is Elizabeth.”

“Well, I am her favorite brother,” Owen remarked with a grin, shouldering his bag as Bret rolled his eyes. “But I do need to go find them if I’m supposed to catch a ride with them. See you guys later!”

“Aggravating ass,” the elder Hart stated fondly as his brother left before turning his attention to Shawn. “Are you coming with me or are you riding with Joanie and Hunter?”

“Bye Owen!” Shawn called after the younger Hart, before turning back to face Bret. “That depends. Think you can handle five hours in a car with me?”

“I could ask you the same thing, though if we’re trying to actually go through with whatever this is, might be a good idea.”

“I’m down. We could play twenty questions.”

“Alright, but coffee first,” Bret replied as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the door. “I’m not answering anything without some caffeine first.”

“God yes,” Shawn groaned as he followed the other man out. “Coffee is absolutely necessary to even being alive.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Coffee and what passed for breakfast acquired, they were on the road together within the hour. “Alright, ask whatever you want,” Bret said as they merged onto the interstate. “Your idea, you get to ask first.”

“Alright then, we’ll start simple. Favorite color?”

Side-eying the man in the passenger seat, the Canadian shrugged. “Blue.”

“Not pink?” Shawn asked teasingly. “I’ll tell the family.”

Bret made a face. "Ugh, no. I don't even know where that color scheme started from." He paused for a second, considering. "What would you do if you weren't wrestling?"

“…. I don’t know. I played football when I was a kid, but these days there isn’t much else I want to do.”

“I know what you mean. I’ll probably die in that ring before I leave it willingly.”

“So have you thought about what you’ll do when you retire?”

"You mean besides go insane? Maybe start a school or something."

“Oh wow. You do have jokes!” Shawn laughed in delight. “Jokes aside though, I’d do the same. If you’re not making moments might as well help the next guy make his.”

"My dad can't do it forever; Owen wants out in a couple more years. Don't want all that knowledge to just... die off," Bret replied, going quiet for a second before he asked his next question. "What stopped you from chasing Nash and Hall?"

Shawn was surprised by the question but didn’t get upset about it. “Marty cheated on me. A lot. Said shit about how he couldn’t help if he loved someone else... it was bullshit, but it stuck. I couldn’t - no, I can’t share like that.”

"Fucking idiot. Not you, Janetty. Don't know what you ever saw in that dick."

“It’s like you said with your wife. Things changed. Seven years together built up a lot of his crap in my head. It only got worse the longer I was there. Honestly blame the drugs.”

Tightening his grip on the steering wheel briefly, Bret nodded. "Yeah. I get that."

“What’s your favorite food?” the Texan questioned, desperate for a subject change.

"Fuck, I don't know. Anything my mom cooks. What's your favorite movie?"

“That’s cute. I actually like cartoons. You know Loony Tunes? Mom got me the VHS collection last Christmas.”

"That's... surprisingly not terrible."

“I like shitty jokes. What about they would I not like?” Shawn laughed. “So what about you? Got a favorite?”

"I like the old universal monster movies. Dracula, Frankenstein, stuff like that."

“Old horror is fun. Campy but still good. Great for movie night with popcorn and candy. So in the same category... what is your insomnia show? You can’t sleep in the middle of the night, what do you choose on the tv?”

"I usually just work out until I get tired, don't really watch a lot of TV."

Shawn rolled his eyes. “That’s no fun,” he complained before reconsidering. “Well, actually… hot and sweaty all hours of the day? That’s kind of hot.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’d mind.”

“If you had a few less muscles, I wouldn’t enjoy it so much.”

"And you said me working out was boring," Bret remarked with a smirk. "Favorite holiday."

“Christmas. I love giving presents. My siblings have kids now and they’re always so excited about toys or books or... anything really. They’re at a good age.”

"Toss-up between Halloween and Christmas."

“Oooh Halloween is great too,” Shawn agreed with a smile. “What’s your favorite match type?”

"They all kind of blur together after a while. If I had to choose? I guess something like an iron man match."

“The ones that actually have pin falls, right?” the Texan laughed. “You know Vince couldn’t believe we went a whole hour without a single fall?”

Bret laughed a little at that. “"Don't know why, he was sitting there calling the fucking thing,” he muttered, glancing at Shawn briefly before admitting, “you actually earned some respect from me because of that match."

“I don’t think anyone expected me to keep up with you. Watched the match back later and they kept saying that over and over again. No one thought ‘flashy Michaels’ could go toe to toe with a technical expert.”

"You surprised the hell out of me, I'm not going to lie. Kind of made me take a second look at you as more than just another flash in the pan wrestler."

“Well, thank you,” Shawn replied with a genuine smile at Bret. “That means a lot coming from you.”

"You're welcome," Bret replied with a small nod. "Does your family know you're into men?"

“Yes and no? Mom knows. My siblings know. Everyone just kind of ignores it. Think they’re convince I’ll ‘grow out of it’ eventually. Obviously at least some of yours does.”

"My family doesn't particularly care. My mom thinks that's why Julie and I split, though that's not the case. Diana's the most supportive of me."

“Always knew I liked Diana. She’s such a sweetheart.... so is Bret Hart straight edge and boring?”

"What do you mean?" Bret paused. "Like sexually? I was married for over a decade, what do you think?"

Shawn laughed, shaking his head. “I mean, how do you relax in your free time? You don’t go to bars or clubs so I’m guessing you don’t drink. And I absolutely cannot see you hiring a hooker. So what’s your vice?”

"Oh. I do drink, just prefer to do that at home, or at the hotel. Haven't smoked anything since I was a teenager, but I'm not against it."

“Never been much for smoking. However, edibles can be fun. Had these really good brownies one time.”

"Either way, it's been a long time."

“Well, at least I don’t have to drink beer alone in a hotel room anymore,” Shawn remarked with a laugh.

"Likewise,” Bret agreed with a chuckle. “So… what's something you think I should know?"

Shawn frowned for a minute, pursing his lips in thought. “I guess the biggest thing is that... I have bad nights like last night more often than you might think. I don’t handle being on my own very well.”

"Wasn't that terrible hanging out with me, was it?" the Canadian questioned jokingly before sighing and nodding. "In all seriousness, I get it. That's usually why I bunk with Owen, the silence fucks with me."

“No. You’re actually not bad company. It’s just my brain hasn’t really put together that ‘Bret’ and ‘leaving’ don’t go together yet. It’s a work in progress.”

"First time in years someone not related to me considered me anything but bad company." Bret shrugged. "Your turn."

“Guess I’ll turn that one back on you. What’s something about you I should know?”

"I don't deal well with secrets," Hart finally said after a minute. "If I know you're deliberately withholding things, it'll piss me right the hell off. Not just annoyed or irritated like I normally get, but actually mad. If there's something you don't want to talk about, that's fine but I expect to know eventually. I don't always react well when I'm mad, not in a physical manner or anything, but I won't want to listen."

Shawn listened quietly, nodding slowly. “That makes sense. I guess I figured you had a temper. I don’t usually keep secrets. I mean, the guys say I’m bad at admitting when I’m hurt or upset. I think that until I decide I can’t handle something then I shouldn’t bother everyone complaining constantly.”

"That's supposed to be part of being in a relationship," Bret pointed out. "Not that I'm an expert by any means, mind you, but if I'm being a dick just fucking tell me. I'm not always aware of how I'm talking to someone, so don't be scared that you're going to hurt my feelings."

“So I have permission to tell you to shut the fuck up when you’re being a prick? Good to know.”

"I'd rather you do that then let it stew and then blow up at me later, when I have no fucking clue why you're pissed."

“I can promise to try not to stew on things,” Shawn promised before getting excited. “Oh! But a positive you might be able to enjoy in the future... I am a major fan of makeup sex.”

Bret laughed, shaking his head. "Duly noted."

“Promise me you’re not some old man with no sex drive,” the Texan pleaded, “because I might actually cry.”

"I can absolutely promise you that. Mine might actually rival yours." Hart paused momentarily. "Please tell me you're not into some off the fucking wall weird shit."

A nervous little laugh from the passenger seat. “What, uh, what do you consider off the wall weird shit?”

"I mean, there are lines I don't cross. Rough is fine, but I don't do like rape fantasies and shit. That's a little much."

“You’re in luck. That’s on my list of absolutely not!”

“Good.”

“Of course I do like some kinky stuff but nothing that extreme.”

"You were with Nash and Hall; I'm not even surprised."

“You’d be surprised of how much I had to talk them into trying. That was one of our biggest issues. I really hate being treated like I’m made of glass. I’ve survived ladder matches, iron man matches. I did the damn cage thing with Mark! I’m not gonna break from being choked or handcuffed.”

Bret shrugged. "Long as you don't want me to... I don't know, punch you in the face or something, I'm fairly open to trying most stuff."

“And risk getting bitched at for another black eye? Hell no!” Shawn laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not into punching. Spanking on the other hand...”

"How did this go from twenty questions to sexual preferences

“I started off by joking to make sure you weren’t a massive prude. It devolved from there. Did you have another question?”

"Did you?"

“You’re the one fishing for a topic change.”

Huffing in annoyance, Bret shrugged again. "I don't know what else to ask right now. So if you've got more questions, ask." After a second, he shook his head. "No, wait. It's been a long fucking time since I've actually dated anyone, so I guess I should ask if you want to grab dinner or something later."

“I mean, we can’t exactly go to a restaurant.” Shawn frowned. “Kayfabe bullshit and all that. So... take out and a rental?”

"Yeah, that works."

“It’s a date.”

Hours later once they were in the town of the next house show, Shawn paid for a room with double queen beds because that’s just what he usually did. It wasn’t until he was standing inside and waiting for Bret that he realized what that might look like. Then again... two grown men sharing a room. It was better if people assumed they slept separately, right? And who’s to say that Bret would want to share a bed? Maybe he would want his space after tonight’s show. “Quiet, Michael.” Shawn said under his breath. “You’re over thinking things again. Just let them happen.”

Promising to catch up with Shawn in a bit, Bret had left to go find the rest of his family. "Did Owen talk to you two?" he asked Davey, the one he’d actually managed to find.

Davey nodded. "You've never asked us to look out for anyone that wasn't family before," he stated, unpacking his bag into the hotel-provided dresser.

"Look it's... complicated. I don't know things are going to work, but..."

His brother-in-law looked at him calmly. "Diana wants you to be happy," he said quietly. "If you feel like this might make you happy, Jim and I have no qualms backing you up on this. We'll do as you asked until told otherwise."

"Thanks," he muttered awkwardly before turning and heading to go find Shawn's room. A couple minutes later, he knocked on the door with Davey's words still in his head.

Shawn opened the door quickly, a smile spreading across his face when he saw who was knocking. “Hey Bret! C’mon in.”

"Hey. Sorry about that, had to make sure Owen relayed a message," the Canadian explained, returning the smile as he entered the room.

“Threatening your brothers?” Shawn tsked at him. “I think you’re abusing your big brother powers there, Bret.”

Bret laughed, shaking his head. "Wasn't threatening them, though that did kind of sound like it."

“It definitely did.” Shawn nodded. “Which side of the room do you want? Window or door?”

"Doesn't matter."

“Sure it does, everyone has a preference.”

Sighing, Hart shook his head as he tossed his bag on the closest bed. “It really doesn’t, but I’ll take this one I guess.”

“Okay, babe, sure.”

“I’m used to Owen just claiming whatever. When you have eleven siblings, you learn not to be picky.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m a bit less picky. Which is funny because you could ask the guys and they’d say I’m a massive brat.”

"Never thought I'd agree with Nash and Hall on something, but here I am," Bret replied with a half shrug. "And it's fine, I'm used to brats."

“The question is: are you ready for Shawn brats?” Shawn grinned. “But you don’t have to answer that yet, because we still have a show tonight.”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“I guess we will. You have a match tonight? I know it’s like a five-match card.”

“Yeah, tagging with Anvil tonight. You?”

“One on one with Davey-Boy.”

"At least he won't screw with your back." Bret paused a second. "Still think you need to get that looked at, sooner rather than later."

“Yeah, I’ll do it eventually.” Shawn shrugged. “But the doc will shelf me for at least a few months because of it and I’m not risking it right now.”

Badly as he wanted to call Shawn a fucking idiot, Bret also couldn't without calling himself a hypocrite. "Ok," he said instead.

“Aww, are you worried about me baby?

“Would you rather I not be worried?”

“Nah, I think it’s sweet.”

A little uncomfortable, Bret looked away for a minute. "Just hate to see your career cut short because you want to be stubborn."

“Does it make you feel better to know that I’m scared?” Shawn asked quietly, remembering their conversation earlier about Bret needing him to be honest. “I don’t handle being off the road well. And the months a back injury would take me out? I can’t... I can’t do that right now.”

"I understand that but what happens if it paralyzes you? Forget months, you'd be done, Shawn. Fuck, it could happen in a match with me. We're bound to end up in another feud at some point."

“Guess I’d have to swallow my pride and tap to the sharpshooter.” The Texan shrugged. “I know how to be careful. And as long as I don’t get a match with Mable or Vader for a while, I should be okay.”

Obviously not happy but unwilling to continue what could only end in a screaming match, Bret let it go. "What were you thinking for dinner tonight?" He questioned instead.

“Hmm how do you feel about Chinese take-out?”

"That's fine with me."

“Cool. You can pick a movie after the show and I can pick up dinner. It’s a quick walk. Meet back here by eight.”

"Fair enough."

“You could act at least a little excited.” Shawn pouted at him. “It’s a first date after all.”

"Okay, okay. I'm excited, I promise," Bret replied with a laugh. "Just hope you're not expecting me to put out on the first date."

“I’m not that much of a horny dog. Although I will complain if I don’t get a kiss goodnight.”

"That's doable.”

“Okay then I’ll behave.”

"And yet, for some reason, I'm doubting that."

“Oh hush you.” Shawn laughed. “I can behave when I want to.”

"Especially if it means getting something you want?"

“Especially.”

"I'll keep that in mind for later."

“You should. Because there are advantages to your new role.”

Bret raised an eyebrow. "Oh are there now?"

“Just you wait,” Shawn promised, grinning at the other man playfully.

"There's a few for you too, you know."

“Oooh. Well that sounds very exciting.”

"Not that much of a horn dog, huh?" the Canadian teased with a small headshake. "Because I could've meant that in a completely non-sexual manner."

“I was expecting something like cuddling or you were an expert at the perfect bubble bath.” Shawn frowned, actually looking disappointed. “I mean, sexy stuff is fun too.”

"The perfect bubble bath," Bret repeated a little incredulously. "How the hell do you perfect a freaking bubble bath? Cuddling is an option, sure. Julie wasn't much for it the last few years, so I'm very out of practice. And uh, you shouldn't be getting much crap backstage anymore, either."(edited)

“I’m an expert cuddler.” Shawn promised. “And I don’t know the perfect blend for a bath. That’s why I was excited. I thought it was one of your Hart family secrets.” He frowned a little, looking at the other man. “Jesus, what did you do?”

"Talked to my brothers," Hart said with a shrug. "Figured it'd be nice to have some peace from all the shit while we figure things out between us."

“So I’ve got a new set of babysitters?” Shawn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fucking super.”

"No, that's not-," Bret huffed as well, throwing his hands up. "You're going to get enough shit for being with me, I was trying to... ah, forget it, I'll tell them not to bother."

Shawn sighed heavily, rubbing his face. “Christ, Bret. Look, I appreciate you looking out for me, alright? I just... i need you to talk to me before doing shit like this in the future. Can we at least do that?”

"Yeah, sure. Sorry."

“It’s fine. Like I said, I appreciate it, okay? It’s really sweet.”

Bret nodded. "No problem."

“We can head toward the show whenever you’re ready.”

"Ready when you are." Hart dug the keys out of his pocket. "You want to drive?"

“Sure.” Shawn nodded, taking the keys, and grabbing his ring bag. “Let’s get going!”

_Here's hoping he drives better than Owen_ , Bret thought with a mental sigh, grabbing his own gear bag and following without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

Like most house shows, the show was fairly standard if a little more relaxed than a RAW taping, with most of the guys just goofing off as it wasn’t terribly important to stick to character. Shoving his gear back into his bag, Bret sighed a little before looking over at his brother. “Hey, Owen?”

“Yeah?”

"What movie would you get for someone who likes… looney tunes?"

His brother laughed loudly before sobering at the look Bret leveled at him. "Oh. You're serious. Well, why don't you just get one of those?"

"... Do I have to?"

Owen rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh come on, man,” he cajoled, nudging his brother’s shoulder playfully. “You said you want to give this a shot, at least meet him halfway."

Sighing again, Bret nodded in defeat. "Yeah, you're right."

"You think I can I get that in writing?"

"Don't push it."

Shawn poked his head into the Hart’s locker room, smiling at the sight of the brothers. “Hey, Bret. You’ve got your room key, right? In case you get there before I do - oh hey Owen!”

Owen grinned at him, waving. "Hey Shawn."

Bret nodded, smiling a little in return. "Yeah, I've got it. You'll probably be back before me; I have to go track down a movie."

“Eh, it depends on how fast the Chinese place cooks,” Shawn replied with a shrug. “You want rice or noodles?”

“Surprise me.”

"He's not picky at all," Owen confided with a smile at the long-suffering expression on his brother’s face. "It's like pulling teeth to get a decision out of him on most things."

“Hey thankfully, I’m Shawn, and I’m picky as hell about almost everything so we’ll work out great.”

"Oh, you two are going to be a riot," the younger Hart cracked, laughing at the annoyed look from his brother as he made to leave. "I'll catch you guys later."

Shouldering his bag, Bret shrugged. "Much as I hate to admit it, he is right about me not being picky. I'll see you back at the room?"

“Bye Owen.” Shawn waved, smiling after him before turning back to Bret. “See you at the room,” he agreed, before heading out himself.

Entering the hotel room almost twenty minutes later, he tossed his gear bag onto his bed and shrugged out of his jacket _. Owen better be right about this or I'll sharpshooter his ass into next week_ , Bret thought as he looked at the VHS tapes a little skeptically. Shawn had said he liked looney tunes, so he'd gotten that and one of his favorites, The Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Shawn came in a few minutes later with a brown paper bag hugged to his chest with one hand and a plastic shopping bag in the other. “Hey! You ready for dinner?”

"Hey," Bret returned with a nod. "You need help?"

“Nope. I got this.” The other man grinned, putting the paper bag on the table, and putting the plastic bag in the little mini fridge. “That’s dessert for later. That’s the best part.”

"Well, I got some Bugs Bunny movie and Creature from the Black Lagoon," the Canadian stated, holding up the cassettes as he toed off his shoes. "Take your pick."

“You rented a Bugs Bunny movie?” Shawn asked in surprise. “That’s... kind of awesome. Hmm, we can put that on for dessert. Let’s watch Creature first.”

"You said you liked them," Bret muttered, setting it aside in favor of the monster movie and moving over to the TV, putting the tape in the VCR, and turning everything on.

“It’s really sweet, babe,” Shawn promised, unpacking their dinner take out containers. “Got some noodles, some rice. Then some chicken and beef. Veggies... it’ll be great!”

“Sounds great.”

As they settled on the bed to eat, Shawn nudged Bret with his elbow. “So is this like, the original movie? Black and white and shit?”

Bret nodded. “Yeah, think it’s from like ’54? They’ve never remade this one like Dracula, or Frankenstein. Never understood why.”

“Maybe the original was just too iconic. I mean, the costume is just…” Shawn laughed. “Man, it’s good shit. Perfect artwork.”

Shrugging noncommittally, Bret chewed and swallowed before answering. "Could be, or maybe it just didn't generate the same popularity as some of the other monster films."

“Maybe so,” Shawn agreed. “Nosferatu was pretty goofy looking too and he’s pretty famous now.”

"I've only watched that one maybe twice. Bela Lugosi or Christopher Lee do a better job as Dracula."

“Absolutely. Doesn’t make sense for vampires to be freaky looking or they’d never get close to a victim.”

"That was something I never got about that movie, but I guess since it was a silent film, they had to do something to make him 'scary',” Bret replied with a loud laugh.

“Yeah that makes sense.” Shawn shrugged. “I’d get so bored with silent movies, man. Just distracted, y’know?”

"I don't know how people watched them, honestly. Think the only reason I watched Nosferatu was just to say I'd seen it. Had to be the most boring ninety minutes of my life."

“Pretty sure I had to watch it for some kind of school thing,” Shawn commented after a moment’s thought. “It was pretty bullshit. Four kids fell asleep during the movie.”

"I came pretty close to falling asleep," Bret confessed with a shrug. "I kept hoping it would get better and while it didn't get worse, it just dragged on for what felt like forever."

“Agreed,” Shawn replied with a nod, turning his attention to the movie again. “Universal didn’t do too bad.”

The Canadian shook his head, settling back against the headboard. "Anything was an improvement over Nosferatu. That one Mel Brooks did last year was just okay. Not as funny as Young Frankenstein, but not as awful as everyone made it out to be."

“I prefer the sexy vampires.” Shawn shrugged before glancing up at Bret with a slow grin. “You wanna know who would make a really sexy vampire?”

“You?”

“Hotter than me,” the Texan said with a laugh, laying his head on Bret’s shoulder.

Draping his arm around Shawn comfortably, Bret half shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Owen,” Shawn told him, cackling as he sat back up.

Shoving at him in playful annoyance, Bret rolled his eyes even as he cracked a small smile. “Alright, you brat, see if you get that goodnight kiss now.”

“Aww, I’m just teasing,” Shawn told him with a pout. “If I don’t get a goodnight kiss, you don’t get dessert.”

"You really think I would do that?" The other man paused before shrugging. "Alright, I would but I'm not. At least not this time."

“You so would! Because you’re a mean, spiteful old man.”

"I will deny cuddling," Bret warned. "Might even make you sleep alone if you keep it up."

“Breeeeet,” Shawn whined, laying dramatically across the man’s lap to occupy his attention. “That’s no fun at all! Just proving you’re mean and old.”

"Just proving that I know how to deal with you when you're being a brat," the Canadian replied, deliberately not looking at him. "I could always call your friends for help too. Joanie did say I could."

“Bret!” Shawn cried, slapping Bret’s chest, and kicking his feet. “You’re so mean.”

"They don't call me an asshole without reason, you know."

Shawn sat up again, huffing loudly. “No dessert then! Now I have to eat a whole gallon of ice cream and brownies all by myself.”

Close to laughing at how easily riled up Shawn was getting Bret somehow kept a straight face. "Then I guess no cuddling and you can sleep by yourself."

Moving to the other bed and flopping back on it dramatically, Shawn huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re such a dick.”

"And you're a brat," Bret returned with a laugh, finally looking at Shawn again. "You sure you want to be with me?"

“I’m doubting that decision right now.”

Half smiling, the Canadian shook his head. "Movie's almost over, you want to watch the one I got for you?" Hesitating a second, he sighed, shoving his hair back. "I hope you're not actually upset with me. I know I can be kind of a dick, but I was just messing with you. You being a brat is actually kind of cute."

Laughing as he stood up, Shawn shook his head. “Nah. Not actually mad. Just... over dramatically sulking over a lack of attention.”

Huffing in amusement, Bret shook his head. "Well if you want attention so bad, come here and get some," he replied, holding an arm out.

“I was trying to get attention,” Shawn reminded him pointedly. “I was on your lap. Being neglected.”

"Because you were being a brat and brats get ignored.”

“Then can I pretty please have attention now?”

"If you hurry up and come here, yeah." With a smirk, Bret continued teasingly, "I'm an old man, remember, I'm not coming to you."

Hopping across the distance between the two beds with another laugh, Shawn landed in Bret’s lap with his legs hanging off the side. “Better.”

"You happy now?" Bret questioned with a chuckle, sliding an arm around Shawn's waist to steady him.

“A little better.” Shawn hummed contentedly, looping his arms around Bret’s waist, and putting his head on the Bret’s shoulder.

"You want to tell me what would make it a lot better?" the Canadian asked, rubbing his hand lightly over Shawn's lower back

“Probably ice cream.” The Texan shrugged. “But it’s in the fridge and I’m comfortable.”

"Something I can do then," Bret replied, tilting his head to rest against Shawn's. "That doesn't require either of us to move."

“Just stay there. Comfy now.”

“Ok.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Shouldn't you be in a better mood since you're getting some on a regular basis?" Owen complained one day a few weeks later as they got ready for their match. Taking note of his brother's jaw tightening, he looked at the older man curiously. "Wait. You two still haven't...?"

"Why is it any of your business?" Bret griped, shrugging on his jacket and flinging his hair out from the collar.

"It is when you're still pissy and have a smoking hot boyfriend."

"What is this, secondary school?"

"Come on, man. Seriously, what's stopping you? You're no virgin and I know you've been with guys."

"It's just been a while, alright?" Bret finally snapped out. "And I don't want it to be terrible."

"Have you tried telling him that?" The silence was the only answer Owen needed. "Jesus, Bret, what the hell?"

"How do I even say something like that?" The elder Hart complained.

"Uh, just say it? Simple as that."

"No it's not."

"You're complicating things for no reason!"

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Shut up, Owen."

"You tell him, or I will."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Bet."

_Meanwhile, in the DX locker room…_

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to ‘not take it personally’ when my boyfriend doesn’t want to have sex,” Shawn huffed as he laced his boots. “There’s always some excuse not to. Hell, he even stops making out before it gets even a little hot. I’m getting blue balled daily!”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” Hunter questioned from where he was standing nearby.

“Yeah, and I got ‘it’s not you, babe, I’m just tired.’ Or ‘I’m sore.’ Or some other paper-thin bullshit excuse!” Shawn threw his hands up in frustration. “I like Bret. A lot. Might even love him someday but... a man’s got needs.”

“Try talking to him about it again,” Joanie encouraged. “Maybe it’s as simple as nerves.”

Shawn frowned. “I mean, he’s been with guys before. What’s to be nervous about?”

“He’s never been with _you_ before,” Hunter reminded him with a laugh.

“Okay fine!” Shawn finally gave in with another huff. “I’ll talk to Bret about all this tonight.”

“Your blue balls.” Hunter nodded sagely.

“Your intimacy issues,” Joanie laughed.

“I’m not sure which of those was worse.”

"Owen, I swear to God..."

"Or I can tell Davey, who'll probably tell Diana." The suddenly wary look on Bret's face let him know he was getting somewhere finally. "Or worse, I can tell Jim, and you know what'll happen when he tells Elizabeth."

Gnashing his teeth, Bret crossed his arms over his chest as they came to a halt. "You're evil."

"Learned from my big brother."

"You didn't learn that shit from me."

"I wasn't talking about you! Jesus, you’re not my only brother."

"You're not allowed to tell Martha about this conversation either," Bret told Owen as they left their locker room.

"Aw c'mon!"

"I will suplex you into a wall."

"Go talk to your boyfriend already."

"Stop calling him that," Bret hissed, smacking Owen on the arm.

"That's what he is! Unless you want me to come up with one of those cute nicknames for you two." The dark look his brother shot him only made Owen grin wider. "You know I will."

"What did I do to you to make you torment me?"

"You're my brother."

Coming out of the DX locker room about the time Bret and Owen strolled into view, Shawn visibly winced when he saw his boyfriend. “It’s the universe speaking to you, man,” Hunter told him with a laugh.

“Ha. No,” Shawn scoffed, shaking his head. “I’d rather get to the hotel before shit hits the proverbial fan with that conversation.”

“Ooh looks like Owen is driving him nuts.” Hunter tsked, nudging Shawn playfully. “You should go kiss it better.”

“I will kick your fucking nose in.” Shawn warned in annoyance.

“I’m sure you would,” Hunter replied with a laugh, throwing an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders. “But you’d miss me if I died of broken face.”

"Hope you know I'm going to strangle you one of these days."

Owen just laughed, pulling his brother into a one-armed hug. "You know you love me."

"Won't stop me," Bret warned, shoving him away in irritation before heading to go speak to Shawn.

Shawn watched Bret walk over, throwing on his usual charming HBK smile and waving. “Well, hey there.”

Cracking a smile, Bret shook his head in silent amusement at the greeting. "Hey."

“Did you need something?” Shawn cocked his head, acting totally casual.

"Can we talk?" Bret took a look around at several people deliberately loitering around and fought the urge to roll his eyes. "In private. It's nothing bad."

Shawn’s smile fell and he gave a nervous little laugh, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. “I’m on commentary for the next match. Feud building and all that. Can it wait ‘til tonight?”

"Sure," the Canadian agreed with a nod, taking note of the nervous laugh. "Hey. I promise you, it's nothing bad, sweetheart."

“I trust you,” Shawn replied, smiling a bit at the pet name and nodding. “Just... you know most of these guys can’t cut a damn promo to save their lives. I’m building a feud on my own here.”

Making a face, Bret shook his head. "God, you aren't even kidding about that either," he agreed with a sigh. "I'll see you after?"

“Absolutely. I can wash your back in the shower.”

"Or maybe I'll wash yours instead," Bret offered in return, reaching out and brushing his fingers over Shawn's cheek. "You should probably go, sounds like the match is almost over."

Leaning into the touch with a happy little sigh, Shawn nodded reluctantly as he stepped away. “Yeah, gotta go be entertaining.”

"You're always entertaining," Bret assured him with a small laugh. "Go on, I'll catch up with you after my match. We'll grab dinner on the way back to the hotel."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A little over an hour later, match done and show nearly over, Bret made his way backstage. "We're going to talk tonight," he told Owen quietly the moment they hit gorilla. "Happy?"

"Be happier when you finally get laid and stop being so bitchy," Owen replied cheerfully, laughing as he dodged the swing his brother aimed at him as they walked behind the curtain.

Shawn was already waiting in the Hart locker room, unlacing his boots where he was sitting on the bench. He’d managed to avoid any bumps to his back the whole match and was feeling pretty confident about his whole talk with Bret later tonight.

Parting with his brother, who went to find Davey and Anvil, Bret made his way to his locker room. Entering, he stopped short for a split second in surprise at seeing Shawn already there. "Hey," he said, shrugging off his jacket as he moved further inside and shut the door. "You decide what you want for dinner?"

“I think it’s your turn to pick,” Shawn pointed out, standing up to wiggle out of his tights. “You can decide after we shower though.”

"Alright," Bret agreed without complaint, propping a foot on the bench to unlace his own boots. "You looked like you were having fun on commentary tonight."

“You mean dancing on the commentary table?” Shawn questioned with a grin. “God, it was such a boring match.”

"I don't think anything else would've made that match worth watching."

Shawn laughed. “Vince slapped my leg and told me to get down. Then when the crowd started singing my entrance song, he was so disappointed. It was hilarious.”

"Not sure why he expected anything different from you. He knows as well as I do how much you like to be the center of attention," Bret mused as he stripped out of his ring gear. "Add in a match absolutely no one cared about? You were doing him a favor at that point."

“That’s one thing WCW will never have. My gorgeous ass on screen.”

Bret laughed, gently pushing Shawn towards the showers. "Sucks for them."

Shawn sauntered naked into the shower, turning on the water and changing the temperature until it was acceptable.

Following with a small, amused headshake, Bret stepped in with him. _Janetty really is an idiot for letting you go_ , he decided as he looked at Shawn. _His loss._

“You’re staring,” Shawn teased, playfully wiggling his hips. “I’m not complaining. It’s like you say all the time, I like being the center of attention. Yours at least.”

"Just thinking how lucky I am to have you all to myself," the other man admitted with a small smile. "And you've always had my attention."

Shawn huffed, turning his back to Bret quickly to hide the little smile and blush that grew at the words. Because Shawn Michaels absolutely did not blush.

“I’m sorry, but are you _blushing?_ ” Bret questioned with a small laugh. “Did I really just make Shawn Michaels blush?”

“Fuck you?” Shawn scoffed, trying to cover for the slip. “I don’t blush. Certainly not over some basic one-liner.”

"I think it's cute," Bret told him with a shrug. "But if you're going to be all mean about it..."

“I’m not mean,” Shawn insisted immediately, turning fully to face him again.

"So telling me 'fuck you' wasn't mean? Or calling that a basic one liner? Because if you don't believe me you can ask Owen." Bret huffed in embarrassment, looking away. "Or Davey, Diana... you get the picture."

“I panicked!” Shawn insisted. “You don’t do compliments and shit usually. I just... I didn’t expect it all the sudden.”

Bret shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know, I just thought maybe I should more."

“I like it,” Shawn assured, stepping closer and taking Bret’s hands in his own. “It just surprised me. Especially considering we’re naked in a shower.”

"Seemed like a good time when you mentioned me staring and being the center of my attention," Bret pointed out with a laugh, looking back at Shawn.

Shawn laughed, shaking his head fondly. “Well, do too much of that and I might start to think you want something.”

“I can't just compliment you without wanting something?"

“Well, if you’re just being sweet then I guess that’s fine,” Shawn replied with a chuckle, stepping back under the shower spray.

Letting him go, Bret moved over to the other shower head, adjusting the water to his liking. "I'm not always after something when I say things like that," he explained. "Thought maybe sometimes you just need or want to hear it without expectations attached."

“I mean, yeah.” Shawn shrugged, starting to wash his hair. “I was just... it’s one of those things that I was learning not to expect, y’know?”

"Yeah," Bret stated quietly, turning to soak his hair. "I'm working on that. Been a while since I've had to worry about anyone's feelings but my own."

“I don’t mind that there are things you don’t do,” Shawn pointed out. “Just... as long as we acknowledge that it’s a thing, you know?”

"It's not that I don't do them." Bret got quiet for a minute as he tried to figure out how to say it. "I just got used to not doing them when things went south with Julie and me. I'm having to relearn how to be in a relationship."

“Well, lucky for you, I’m not Julie. Just a little bit of talking and it’ll all be fine.”

"Thank God for that."

“So... we weren’t actually talking about the compliment thing, right?” Shawn clarified.

"We weren't?" Bret looked over at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

“Oh god, you’re adorable.” Shawn laughed, shaking his head before turning off his shower. “Let’s get going. I’m hungry.”

Turning off his own shower, he moved his wet hair from his face. "Seriously, Shawn. What are you talking about?" Pausing a second, Bret sighed heavily, looking at the ceiling. "You think we were talking about us not having sex yet, don't you?”

Shawn’s smile dropped then, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Kinda yeah. So I was trying to be.... I don’t know, supportive? I figure there’s some reason, so I’m don’t want to be the asshole pushing and rushing.”

_I did not plan on doing this in the locker room_ , Bret thought before saying aloud, "It's just... it's been over a year since I've been with anyone, alright?"

Shawn’s expression softened then, and he couldn’t help but give a small smile. “That’s why? Jesus, Bret. I’m not expecting some all-night marathon from the get-go. But I’d like to at least kiss my boyfriend without him bolting. And don’t act like you don’t because that little pecking shit is like my grandma.”

"Oh hush you brat," Bret grumbled in annoyance even as he smiled. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

“A brat who happens to enjoy all sexy times even if they don’t end in actual sex,” Shawn stated pointedly, kissing Bret’s cheek before bouncing past him. “And in case you didn’t get that... I give great head.”

"I'm never living this shit down am I?" He complained as he followed Shawn out. "Just do me a favor and not mention this to Owen and them?"

Shawn shrugged casually. “It’s just the same as ring rust, babe. It’s not like you don’t still know how to do it. You just got to flex a few minutes a little more than you were before.”

"Great, thanks for that mental image."

“I’m trying to help,” Shawn complained while he was drying off. “Give me some credit here!”

"I know you are and I'm giving you credit for that," Bret agreed, drying off as well. "You really just had to compare it to ring rust though?"

“What? You’ve never been freaked about getting back in the ring after being hurt for a couple months?”

"Don't see it as quite the same thing but I understand the point you're trying to make."

“Ugh.” Shawn rolled his eyes. “Makes perfect sense, ya damn Canadian.”

"Maybe to you, you stubborn ass Texan.”

“Duh! It would make sense to anyone.” Shawn argued.

"Oh, whatever brat, I'm not arguing with you over it."

Shawn stuck his tongue out, deciding that he won the argument before starting to get dressed.

Snorting in amusement, Bret just shook his head as he grabbed his clothes. "This doesn't mean you won, by the way," he remarked, stepping into his underwear. "It's a draw."

“Suuuure,” Shawn drawled, doing a little hop to get his jeans pulled up, “yeah no, sure, Bret.”

"It's a draw if you want more kissing then what you've been getting," Bret replied loftily, buttoning his jeans, and looking at Shawn. "Or maybe even more than just kissing. I do have a ridiculously hot boyfriend who's been rather neglected, after all."

Snapping his mouth closed, Shawn made a show of zipping his lips. He was nothing if not well behaved... when he wanted to be at least.

Laughing, Bret shook his head fondly. "You are something else," he muttered, turning to put his shirt on. "Hurry up so we can put those plans into motion."

“One of a kind, baby,” Shawn replied laughingly, pulling on his boots and shirt quickly. “Okay. I’m ready when you are.”

"Wouldn't have you any other way," Bret assured as he finished, grabbing his bag. "Let's go."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"You just want to order room service?" Bret questioned as they entered their room around ten minutes later.

“Yeah we can do that.” Shawn nodded, tossing his bag on the spare bed before flopping back on theirs.

"Why are we still getting two beds?" He questioned curiously, throwing his own bag down before moving to the one they shared. Climbing over top of Shawn, Bret leaned down and kissed him teasingly. "I don't know about you, but I'm not planning on sleeping alone."

“Because it’s bad enough if the fans find out you and I are sharing a room.” Shawn pointed out, leaning up to playfully nip Bret’s bottom lip. “If we were sharing a room with a king bed?”

"Who's going to tell them?" Bret questioned reasonably, leaning back down to kiss him again. "But I suppose you have a point. Fucking kayfabe."

“You’re Mr. Kayfabe, babe.” Shawn shrugged indifferently. “I’d kiss you on live tv just to piss people off, y’know.”

"I know you would but try being in my family and not being all about it," Bret replied with an almost regretful sigh as he moved to sit up. "Suppose I need to get up so we can call room service."

Shawn made a small noise of complaint, locking his arms around Bret. “But I like having you on top of me more than food.”

"You sure about that?" Bret teased, planting his hands on either side of Shawn. "Because I distinctly remember you saying you were hungry."

“I got distracted. Having a sexy man on top of you will do that to a guy.”

"That is true," Bret conceded with a slight tilt of his head, staring down at Shawn contemplatively. "God, you're so damn gorgeous."

Shawn grinned, bumping his nose against Bret’s. “You’re not so bad looking yourself. Bet together we might be the hottest couple.”

"Probably," Bret agreed with a chuckle. "You want to eat or are we just going to spend the rest of the night making out like teenagers?"

“Oh honey, we haven’t even started making out like teenagers,” Shawn remarked with a laugh. “Question is... is the old man gonna need food to keep up with me?”

"You were the only one who said he wanted food, you brat. Here I am, just trying to be considerate. Don't forget, I've got well over a year of pent up frustration, so don't think I can't keep up with you."

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Shawn grinned suddenly, wrapping his legs around Bret’s waist, and throwing his weight forward to flip them over.

Landing on his back, Bret looked up at him in silent challenge. "Right back at you, sweetheart."

Shawn smirked, ‘accidentally’ wiggling in Bret’s lap while he adjusted his weight. “Careful with the sweet talking, baby doll,” he purred. “I’ll break you.”

Tsking, Bret shook his head. "Oh really now? Because from where I'm at, looks like you're all talk."

Shawn threw his head back and laughed, sitting up on Bret’s lap and resting his hands on the man’s chest. “You sure you’re not too nervous?”

"God, why are you still talking?" Bret asked incredulously, rolling his eyes, and refusing to rise to the obvious bait. "Should've known you'd be all talk, Michaels."

Shawn scoffed, pinching Bret through his shirt. “You’re such a dick. Why do I like you again?”

"Damned if I know.”

Shawn sighed heavily. “God, I could have dated Mark, y’know. Then I’d be appreciated. And probably fucked on a motorcycle.” He sighed again, this time sounding dreamy like he was actually fantasizing.

"You could've, sure," Bret agreed with a shrug. "But you have a thing for asshole Canadians apparently and I have one for a certain stubborn brat from Texas."

“I’ve been blue balled by an asshole Canadian for three months,” Shawn reminded him. “Other people are more respectful than that, you know.”

"You're the one who's running his mouth," Bret pointed out. "All I hear is talk, talk, talk about how good in bed you supposedly are but you won't shut up and get to it already."

“Because I could make you come in a minute if I wanted to. Foreplay should be longer than the main event.”

"And still talking," the Canadian chastised, propping up on his elbows. "You run your mouth this much with anyone else you've been with?"

“Actually Kevin would pin me down and fuck me until I couldn’t talk.” Shawn smirked, trailing his fingers playfully down Bret’s chest, and pausing on his belt. “And Scotty? He had such great hands. Perfect size to wrap around my neck and just... squeeze.” He bit his bottom lip, his eyes fluttering closed at the memory.

_Don't get jealous_ , he warned himself, _get even_. That thought in mind, Bret allowed himself to drop back down, one hand finding Shawn's thigh and following it up. Bypassing his crotch deliberately, his hand moved under his shirt, stroking at the warm skin as he moved upwards. "Oh really?" He questioned, as he found a nipple and twisted it roughly. "You know how often I've considered putting you in a chokehold and just fucking you unconscious?"

Shawn gasped loudly, his back arching hard enough to actually ache. His breathing was a little shakier now, his eyes staying closed. “Now who’s all talk?”

"Hmm, pretty sure it's still you. We'll get into my fantasies another time, when you're less bratty," Bret assured, gripping the collar of Shawn's shirt and tugging him down into a deep kiss.

Shawn squirmed in place, shifting just enough that he could get a hand between them to open Bret’s jeans. He trailed his fingers along the length of the man’s cock, giving a pleased little moan.

Moaning into the kiss, Bret removed his hand from under the shirt and moving down to unbutton Shawn's jeans as well. "Something you want, sweetheart?"

“I got a few ideas,” Shawn mumbled, pulling away from the kiss and moving down to kneel between Bret’s legs. “How about I show you what else my big mouth is good for?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning - references suicide attempts, drug overdose.

"Go on, then. Show me," he encouraged with a nod, tongue swiping across his lower lip as he met Shawn's eyes. "Show me how much you want me, baby."

“Horny much?” Shawn teased, pulling down Bret’s jeans and underwear to toss them aside. He smiled approvingly though. “Aww, at least little Bret knows how to be nice.” Before the brunette could manage a sarcastic comment, he leaned down, licking a line up Bret’s cock from base to tip.

"It's been over a fucking year, you brat," Bret reminded him, tossing his head back with a moan.

“Keep calling me a brat and you’ll see what one’s really like,” Shawn warned, wrapping his fingers around Bret’s cock, giving a few lazy strokes. “I could lay right here next to you and fuck myself. Could moan your name the whole time and never let you touch... could even tie your hands so you aren’t tempted to reach out.”

"Or I can tie you up, torment you for hours," he countered, lifting his head to look at Shawn.

“Promises, promises,” Shawn tsked. Despite every reminder of Bret being celibate for a year, he now had it set in his head that he wasn’t going to go easy on him. He smirked for a moment, keeping his eyes locked on Bret’s while teasing the head of the man’s cock with his tongue

"Guarantees," Bret corrected, biting back another moan, and refusing to back down. "I'll even swallow my pride and call Nash for ideas."

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Shawn told him with a laugh, finally wrapping his lips around the head and starting to suck lightly and occasionally flick his tongue over the tip.

_I'm getting you back for this_ , he warned mentally before reaching down and tangling his fingers in Shawn's hair. "Just you wait," he bit out.

Shawn mumbled a response around Bret, although his attention was more distracted by finding the best rhythm of bobbing his head.

Tugging on Shawn's hair, Bret closed his eyes and concentrated on not giving in to the urge to come. _Fucking Christ, Janetty was stupid enough to let you go why_? He wondered, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

Shawn gave a pleased little hum, wiggling a little out of enjoyment. That was something none of his partners had ever really understood. Why did he like giving so much but never ask to receive? He thought it was simple enough but apparently no one else did.

_Huh_. Squinting an eye open, he glanced down at Shawn, tugging on his hair again. Shawn had mentioned he liked things on the rougher aide, but Bret had still been a little skeptical about it.

Moaning immediately at the hair pulling, Shawn eagerly pushed to take Bret down to the base just to encourage more of the feeling. _At least now he’s figuring this shit out._

Tugging harder even as he thrust up, Bret moaned loudly. "Fuck, Shawn," he managed to get out, eyes falling shut again. "Jesus baby, so good."

Shawn fought back a smug smirk, mostly because it was almost impossible with a mouth full of dick. But he was enjoying the moment, so it was worth it.

"Should've had you on your knees a lot sooner," he mumbled with another rough tug to Shawn's hair. "This must be why Nash and Hall were so possessive of you. Fuck."

The other man actually laughed at that, the sound rumbling up Bret’s cock. It was nice to be appreciated for his many talents again. And add to that the slightly delirious feeling from having his hair pulled, Shawn was squirmy and fighting a moan every few moments.

"Come here," Bret demanded with a pointed tug. "Much as I'm absolutely fucking loving this, I think you've more than earned something a lot better."

Shawn pulled off with a wet pop, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Aww was poor Bret about to come?” He asked with a grin, feeling smug.

"Even if I had, you think that would've been it?" Bret questioned with an eyeroll. "You've got a lot to learn about me, sweetheart."

“Oh sweetheart, I’d dump you if you a one round only guy,” Shawn told him, laughing as he crawled up until he was straddling Bret’s thighs. “But I was thinking you’d want to get the quickie out of the way and enjoy round two.”

"Lucky for you, you don't have to worry about that with me," Bret promised with a laugh as his hands found Shawn's hips. "Personal best is four, only because she wasn't up to round five."

“You should have seen me a few years back when I was into partying and shit. I could wear Scott _and_ Kevin out and still be rearing to go.”

"Yeah, well, no offense sweetheart, but I like you better without all the partying."

Shawn laughed. “Well, I like you a lot more when I’m not partying too. Course I didn’t really like anyone in those days.”

Sitting up, careful not to dislodge the other man, Bret pulled him into a kiss. "Enough talking," he muttered, biting down, and tugging on Shawn's bottom lip teasingly.

Humming happily as he hooked his arms around Bret’s neck and playfully rolling his hips down, Shawn nodded. “Yes sir.”

"Careful, I can get used to that," Bret warned, roughly kissing him again, before moving down to nip at Shawn's throat.

Shawn gave a breathy laugh, running his hands down Bret’s chest to his stomach before moving up again. “You should ditch the singlet in the ring. Just stay shirtless.”

"I might," the Canadian stated consideringly, before smacking Shawn on the thigh in warning. "Didn't I say enough talking?"

“Make me.”

Bret paused at the challenging words, tilting his head back enough to look at him curiously. Julie hadn't been into rough stuff and the last guy he'd been with... well, not like they'd had a heart to heart about their kinks or anything beyond agreeing to sleep together. _He did say Hall used to choke him during, and that he had to convince them to get rough_ , a voice in his head pointed out reasonably. _He obviously wants it and is okay with it, so get with the program already._ Lifting a hand to Shawn's throat, he grabbed him pointedly. "Enough. Talking."

Actually squeaking at the sudden grab, Shawn’s arms fell to his sides and his eyes fluttered for a moment before focusing on Bret again. He hasn’t actually expected Bret to do anything rough or bossy like this and experiencing it was actually kind of amazing.

Barely suppressing a smile at the squeak, he moved in closer until they were nose to nose. "This what you wanted?" Bret questioned. "I told you, I'm not like Nash and Hall. You want rough? That's what you'll get."

Shawn nodded mutely, looking at Bret with wide and curious eyes. Despite the previous surprise, he was strangely calm now, intensely focused like he almost never was.

"That's much better, baby," Bret remarked, loosening his grip a tiny fraction as he flexed his fingers. _What now?_ He wondered for a second before taking a wild guess, hoping maybe he was doing the right thing. "You going to be good and listen now?"

Nodding quickly, Shawn bit at his bottom lip absently. “I-I’ll be good,” he promised. This was something completely different from being with Kevin or Scott, both of which had known him like the back of their hands, but that was what made this so exciting. This time, _he_ was the teacher.

Hesitating a second, Bret blew out a breath. "I don't know how to do this," he admitted slowly. "Not the sex, obviously but.." he flexed his hand, still on Shawn's throat. "This stuff."

Reaching up to adjust Bret’s hand slightly, Shawn smiled. “Squeeze here at the sides more. Gives the same feeling except it doesn’t stop my brain from getting oxygen. Less dangerous. I don’t mind showing you, y’know. If you’re into it as more than the hair pulling and hard fucking side of things, that is.”

"Never actually tried it," Bret admitted with a shrug. "And you're obviously into it so I can at least give it a shot."

“Yeah but if you’re not into it, we won’t do it,” Shawn said firmly. “I’ll survive even if you never dom for me, Bret. So promise you’ll say if you hate something or if it’s more than you want to do.”

"I promise," Bret agreed with a nod. "There's not much I'm not willing to at least try, I've told you that before."

“Yeah but there’s a difference between let’s try spanking and choking and the stuff I like. It can be a lot.” Shawn hesitated for a moment before admitting quietly, “I can be a lot.”

"For the wrong person, maybe," he conceded after a second, thumb moving over the pulse in Shawn's neck. "But I don't scare easily, Shawn."

“It’s not about getting scared,” Shawn corrected, bringing his hand up to rest on Bret’s. “It’s about me and some bad habits I’ve got. Some... very stupid things I’ve done before or still fight with. For me, what Kevin and Scott called my ‘headspace’ was therapeutic. I couldn’t do something stupid because I wasn’t in charge. Someone else had the leash and it let me escape my head for a while. And that is a pretty big deal.”

Digesting the information quietly, Bret looked him in the eyes seriously. "I'm not going to run screaming the moment you start having problems. I know there's things you struggle with and things that you haven't told me about yet. I've known that since we've started dating but I thought I'd made it crystal clear I wasn't going anywhere."

“You could make it crystal clear seventeen times and I’d still need to be reminded.” Shawn laughed a little, shaking his head. “Y’know, most guys would at least wait until after they got off to start talking all serious and shit.”

Bret shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'm not most guys," he said with a quiet laugh. "I just want you to know that I'm in this for as long as we can stand each other. Besides, no sense in killing the afterglow with serious talk. Can always get back in the mood."

Shawn laughed at that, leaning down to kiss him. “Fair enough. So how about we order dinner and try that whole ‘making out like teenagers’ thing again afterwards?”

"Sure baby," Bret agreed with a small nod, kissing Shawn back.

A few weeks later, Shawn hadn’t really brought up the whole dom/sub thing again. He’d played confident but truthfully, he didn’t know how to start with teaching someone to dom, as he’d never done it. He just knew what he liked as a sub. So he’d decided to call the two people who did know. Kevin and Scott would swing by the ranch for the weekend for a “surprise” visit. Shawn would bring up the topic casually and they could talk about it like adults. It sounded so simple in his head.

Now that he was sitting in his living room between Bret and his friends, all of them seething at just each other’s presence, it occurred to him that he hadn’t considered that the other three men _loathed_ each other.

You really had to invite them? Bret thought, not for the first time since Nash and Hall had arrived at Shawn's ranch. Practically the second they'd all laid eyes on each other, they'd been ready to fight. Looking at Shawn, who sat nervously beside him, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes and just get up and leave.

Kevin sat in stony silence, face impassive as he looked at Shawn and Hart. What the hell Shawn saw in that asshole, he was still trying to figure out. In his opinion, Hart was only a step above fucking Marty, if only because his hatred for Janetty outweighed his hatred for Bret.

Scott, meanwhile, was beginning to wonder if his newfound sobriety was worth it. Stuck between his trust in Shawn and his dislike for Bret, he was mentally torn on the whole situation. On one hand, Shawn was happy and that's what really mattered but on the other hand, he was with fucking Bret Hart of all people.

“Okay!” Shawn exclaimed, if a little too loud and a bit squeaky from anxiety, he would never admit. “I know you guys don’t like each other, okay? I get it. But half your job is acting so could you pretend for the sake of my sanity that you aren’t too seconds from killing each other because I’m ready to jump out a window.” Probably a bad phrase since his first “attempt” early into his friendship with Kevin was trying to dive out their hotel window but hey. It would show how serious he was about his mental state in that moment.

"That's not even funny, Shawn," Kevin muttered, crossing his arms, and turning his gaze away from all of them.

"Your sanity and my sobriety," Scott stated with a sigh, giving Kevin a look when the big man looked over at him.

Watching in something he refused to call amazement, Bret was a little surprised to watch Nash actually back down at Hall's look. "I'll play nice if they will."

Seeing Kevin about to open his mouth, Scott narrowed his eyes slightly. "Kev."

Grumbling in obvious annoyance, Kevin nodded once. "Fine."

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny. It’s genuine panic,” Shawn said honestly, bouncing on his heels in the nervous way he was known for. “Look, you know there’s a reason I asked you guys to come by and I needed Bret here for this because... I don’t know what to do.”

Sharing a look with Kevin, who was obviously gritting his teeth, Scott huffed in minor annoyance with the big man. "Don't know what to do about what?"

Covering his face with one hand, Bret steadfastly refused to look at any of them for this. It was one thing to discuss their sex life with each other, but bringing these two assholes into it? God, he'd rather ask his _father_.

Shawn looked to Kevin, who he had actually talked to on the phone when planning all of this and realized that he was getting no help, so he took a deep breath and spoke in a hurry. “You guys are the last people I was comfortable with enough to play with, which means I haven’t done it in about eight months and my head isn’t in the best place. Bret offered to learn how to dom to help me with that, but I don’t exactly know how to explain the dominant side of it.” He took another deep breath then, sitting back on his heels and waiting anxiously for someone else to talk.

"You serious about this, Hart?"

Looking up when Scott spoke, Bret nodded reluctantly. "You two wouldn't be here otherwise," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

Kevin looked at Shawn. "How bad is it?"

With a nervous look towards Bret, Shawn looked back at Kevin, chewing his bottom lip and dropping his gaze to the floor. He didn’t really have words to describe where he was mentally that wouldn’t make Bret feel horrible and he really didn’t want to fight over this when he was trying to fix things.

"You should've called sooner, kitten," Scott admonished softly, taking in Shawn's mannerisms. When Bret shot him a look, he leveled one right back at him, silently telling him to get the fuck over it.

"Scott's right, you should've called sooner," Kevin agreed with a sigh. "But we're here now, so we'll help."

“I thought I could handle it.” Shawn shrugged limply, not looking up. “I’d go spend time with Mark when I needed to get some quiet. It’s kind of hard to breathe when everything I do is monitored by someone in pink and black...” He glanced back over at Bret before taking the chance, and hesitantly moving back to his spot on the couch. He didn’t try to lean closer to Bret like he usually would as he didn’t know how the Canadian was taking all this.

"All you had to do was say something," Bret mumbled, more upset at himself than Shawn. It had been his idea for the other members of the Hart foundation to watch out for the other man, after all.

"Yeah, that won't happen," Scott remarked with a headshake. That had been an issue he and Kevin had faced with Shawn when they were still with WWF, the lack of communication. Obviously, nothing had changed in that respect.

"You two aren't having sex with him."

Kevin rolled his eyes in annoyed amusement. "First, the only person whose consent we'd need is Shawn's and second, play doesn't always equate to sex."

“Play and sex are different things,” Shawn explained quietly. “You remember how I told you the sub thing was like therapy for me? It’s because I get too far into my head. That’s how Kev has always said it. It’s just a way for me to stop. A-and I know I just need to talk about stuff, but I can’t.”

Scott nodded his agreement with Shawn's statement. "Of course we're not having sex. Sure, sometimes, it can lead into it but what Shawn's talking about today? That's not the type of play he needs."

"So what, I'm just supposed to sit out here while-"

"Oh no, we're just here to walk you through it. You'll be the one doing it."

"... What."

"You want to do this for him, correct?" At Hart's slow nod, Kevin shrugged. "Well, then you're going to do it. Scott and I can walk you through it."

“I didn’t invite my friends over so you could watch me with them,” Shawn said gently. “I just know that... I can’t explain my head. Kevin and Scott went through all the trouble of learning how to help me, so they can just share that.”

Bret glanced between Kevin and Scott, before landing on Shawn. "This will really help you?" He asked quietly, reaching out and taking Shawn's hand in his.

Scott met Kevin's eyes, jerking his head imperceptibly before standing. "We'll give you two a minute," he stated, shooting him a look when the big man didn't stand right away. "Won't we, Kevin."

"I'm coming," Kevin grumbled, pushing up from the chair and following Scott into the kitchen.

Shawn nodded, squeezing Bret’s hand. “I’m sorry... I know I should just talk to you but it’s... you don’t understand how hard it is sometimes.”

"No, I guess I don't," Bret agreed with a sigh, squeezing Shawn's hand in return. "I'm still not particularly thrilled about having them here and why the fuck does Hall call you kitten?"

“He’s done that since we met.” Shawn chuckled ruefully. “Says it’s my personality. I can be mean and vicious but when I’m happy I’m sweet like a kitten.”

"What is it with you and making me agree with them about things," Bret grumbled after a minute, mentally having to agree to that assessment of Shawn's personality. "I don't have to like seriously hurt you or anything right?" He questioned after a momentary pause.

“Nothing like that,” Shawn assured. “Even when play mixes with sex I’m never a big masochist. It’s all mental really. I wish I could explain it better.”

"Okay, we'll give it a shot."

“Thank you.” Shawn graced him with a genuine smile. “You’ve got no idea how much it means to me that you’re even willing to try with all this.”

"I promised I was in this with you, whatever it took. If this is part of what that means, so be it,” Bret replied with a half shrug. "Guess one of us should go get the others, tell them we're doing this."

“Kev?” Shawn called. “You guys can step around the corner now.”

"So, we make a decision?" Scott questioned as he and Kevin made their way back in the living room.

"We're doing this," Bret agreed, squeezing Shawn's hand again.

"Good. Tell him to get you something. Don't ask, just straight tell him," Kevin suggested, settling back into the recliner. "Put some authority in your tone."

When Bret still looked a little lost, Scott snapped his fingers impatiently at Shawn. “Go get us all drinks, Shawn,” he ordered. “When you get back, you are to sit in Bret’s lap.”

Shawn jumped a little, his attention snapping to Scott immediately. “Anything specific to drink, Sco- sir?” he corrected himself hastily

Scott shook his head. “Water is fine. Go.”

Shawn stood quickly and walked to the kitchen, actually humming a little to himself while he filled glasses with ice water. Already the knot in his chest was loosening as he remembered how Scott and Kevin took care of him, safe in the knowledge that he’d be okay with them here. He just wanted to feel that same way around Bret. Coming back into the living room, he placed a glass on the coaster nearest each man before walking over the Bret and crawling into his lap.

“Tell him he did a good job,” Scott encouraged with a nod at Shawn.

“Praise is your friend,” Kevin stated in agreement. “He’s got a praise kink ten miles long.”

“Good job, baby,” Bret offered, petting at Shawn’s back gently. “So, I just... order him around, basically?”

Scott shrugged, nodding. “More or less. It’s up to you two how far you want to take it. Might be days where he’ll want you to decide everything for him. Clothes, gear, what to eat, when to go to bed.”

“You really want to get him, next time you tell him to do something? Tell him good boy when he follows directions.”

Shawn leaned his head on Bret’s shoulder, listening quietly and looking between the men while they talked. As an almost instinctive reaction to Kevin saying the words, Shawn responded quietly with, “I wanna be good.”

“You’re being very good, kitten, we promise,” Scott assured, looking between Shawn and Bret rather pointedly.

Feeling awkward, Bret nonetheless nodded, turning his head to kiss Shawn on the temple. “You’re being so good, baby.”

Shawn smiled, looping his arms around Bret’s waist, and nuzzling against his neck. It always amazed him sometimes how far a little praise could bring up his mental state.

“I know it feels kind of weird at first, but it does get easier. In situations where the end game isn’t sex, if it helps, think of him like a kid. Set boundaries, punishments for disobeying, things like that,” Kevin explained, taking a drink of water.

“In other words, he’s yours to take care of so make him feel that way,” Scott added. “Hell, if it’s your thing, you can even have him call you daddy.” At the look Bret gave him, he shrugged. “Or not.”

Shawn snickered at that, shaking his head. “Already had a daddy. Can’t recycle nicknames. Bret is Bret.”

Hesitating only briefly, Bret swatted Shawn on the leg. "You need to apologize, baby, he wasn't talking to you," he stated in a low tone.

Kevin looked grudgingly impressed, and even Scott nodded a little.

Sitting up straight, Shawn looked down at Bret in surprise before he slowly turned to face Scott. “... I’m sorry for interrupting.”

"That's okay, kitten."

"Good boy," Bret stated, giving Shawn a kiss on the cheek.

Shawn hummed happily, leaning into the kiss before settling with his head on Bret’s shoulder again. “... thank you for helping me explain, guys.”

"Of course," Kevin replied with a small smile. "Can't have you spiraling again."

_Again_? Bret wondered briefly, lightly running a hand up and down Shawn's back. "Yeah, uh..."

"We did this for Shawn," Scott interrupted, holding up a hand. "We'll stick to our mutual dislike of each other, but we’ll agree to be civil so long as you two are together."

“Don’t want to get that bad again,” Shawn agreed quietly, sitting up again. “Guess that’s probably something to come clean about sooner rather than later...”

Scott's eyebrows raised. "You haven't told him?"

"You in a good place to do that? Mentally?" Kevin questioned.

Bret looked between all three of them a little warily. "Something I should know about?"

“I didn’t want him to know how messed up I was, but I think he at least deserves to know why we went through figuring all this out. And I think if I don’t tell him now, I’ll just keep making excuses not to.”

"Alright, so talk," Bret told him. "Cuddle with me if you need to but talk."

Shawn hesitated and instead moved to the other side of the couch so he could sit cross legged facing Bret. “Okay, um, well, about... it was a couple months before Hunter joined up so, late ‘95? I... well, I almost died. Or kind of did for a minute there? It’s a little hazy in spots for me, but... I overdosed. On purpose.”

"Next to me," Scott agreed with a sigh. "I was... well, drunk as usual."

"I noticed he'd gotten quiet, which I'm sure you know by now, is... unusual for him," Kevin added. "I was the one who got him to come to."

Bret looked between all three of them, landing back on Shawn. "Because of Marty's dumb ass. All the shit he pulled."

“Marty wasn’t around anymore,” Shawn said quietly. “And I... Jesus, that’s not the only time I’ve done something like that. It’s why Kevin has always been so overprotective. He’s saved me twice. Caught me before I went over the ledge of a fifteenth-floor balcony, held me under the water in an ice shower to get me awake enough to puke the pills back up. You know, it’s funny... Kevin only knew me a couple months before that first time. Been saving my ass since ‘92.”

Kevin shrugged when Bret looked at him in shock. "It's true."

"Jesus, Shawn, what... why..." Bret shook his head, his thoughts jumbled.

“That’s the million-dollar question.” Shawn sighed and shrugged. “I’ve always had issues. Fear of abandonment from the research we did... depression obviously. The very first time, I was in the car with Marty. He was screaming, told me that I wasn’t worth his fucking time. I was driving and just floored it. He couldn’t leave me if there was no me to leave. At least that one I can explain. The two that they were here for...” he gestured over his shoulder. “I don’t know what triggered them. I just... I spiraled. I just wanted the noise in my head to stop.”

"That's why you two got him into the...," Bret waved a hand trying to come up with the right word.

"BDSM stuff, yeah," Scott finished with a nod. "Kev and I had been doing stuff like that for years. There's a _major_ difference between what we did with Shawn and what we do with each other, though."

Kevin nodded as well. "Sometimes it leads to sex, other times it just calmed him down and got him into a better frame of mind. What'd you call it once, Shawn? Aggressive affection?"

“Assertive affection,” Shawn replied, chuckling a little. “Kevin did a lot of research into how sub space worked and how it can be used... the only other people who know are Hunter and Joanie, of course. And Mark.”

"Huh," Bret managed after a minute, digesting the information. "Cheaper than therapy, I guess?"

Scott snickered. "Well, you're not wrong."

Shawn laughed. “More effective than therapy for me.”

"That's why this whole thing was important to you," Bret stated quietly. "And you'd have just... suffered through all that if I'd said I couldn't do it?"

"He probably would've called us," Kevin remarked. "More likely Hunter would've, because Shawn doesn't like asking for help."

"Yeah, no kidding."

“Hunter is a snitch,” Shawn grumbled. “He’ll tell these guys anything.”

"He wouldn't have to be if someone would just open their mouth about important things," Scott said with a pointed look.

“Well if someone could open their mouth about important things I never would have found you and Kevin,” Shawn remarked, sticking his tongue out.

"You probably still would have," Kevin dismissed with a wave. "Don't lie."

“Nah. Because then I could have just made friends like a normal person instead of convincing Vince to hire me one.”

"Vince probably still would've hired Kevin, you know he's got a thing for big sweaty guys," Scott replied, laughing when Bret made a face.

“Yeah but he hates WCW,” Shawn reminded them. “He never watched it.”

Kevin huffed. "It would've happened, stop arguing semantics, brat."

"Speaking of him being a brat," Bret began slowly, "what do you guys normally do in that situation? I've just been ignoring it for the most part."

"That's an option," Scott allowed. "Best thing to do is usually similar to what we did earlier."

“I like feeling important,” Shawn muttered sulkily before paying attention again. “Hey! I hate being ignored. It makes me throw a fit, y’know, and then I’m really bratty.”

"No one said you weren't important," Kevin protested.

"And you're being really bratty now," Bret remarked, giving Shawn a look.

“‘M not a brat,” Shawn pouted, dropping his head

"Come here," Bret ordered, pointing to his lap.

Shawn grumbled but climbed obediently back into Bret’s lap and sitting how he was before.

"I'm proud of you," Bret told him quietly as soon as Shawn settled into his lap. "I know that wasn't easy for you to talk about, but you did very good, baby."

“You reacted a lot better than I hoped,” Shawn told him with a smile, leaning his face into Bret’s neck and sighing tiredly.

"I'm still kind of absorbing everything," Bret admitted with a sigh of his own, leaning his head on Shawn's. "But I meant what I said when I told you I wasn't running."

“You could have run the second any of this started, but you’re still here. That’s more than I could have asked for.”

"It's going to take a lot more than all this to scare me off," Bret replied, moving his head enough to kiss Shawn on the forehead. "I can promise you that, sweetheart."

“Thank you,” Shawn whispered. “Just... for staying. I know I’m a mess.”

"Yeah, but you're my mess now.”

“Can’t get rid of me now. You’re stuck with me.”

"You're stuck with me too, you know, and good luck getting rid of me."

_God damnit, can't even hate the bastard now_ , Kevin thought grumpily, taking note of a similar expression on Scott's face as they sat quietly while the lovers talked. _Figures it'd be because of Shawn_.

“Promises, promises.”

"Guarantees, you brat. Guarantees."

“Guess you’ll have to prove it.”

Smirking, Bret nodded. "Don't think I won't. I don't back down from a challenge, you know."

Shawn smiled fondly. “I’m looking forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this chapter has kind of a "the end" type feel, but I promise, there's more. - Sinderella


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning - Violence, references to killing someone in self-defense.

Later that night, even with Shawn sleeping contentedly curled around him, Bret couldn’t sleep. _Cuddler? More like a damn octopus,_ he thought fondly as he extricated himself and tucked the other man back in with a kiss to Shawn’s forehead. Making his way back downstairs, he balked a little at seeing Hall still awake, kicked back in the recliner with a book.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Scott questioned, barely glancing up as Hart came into the room.

“Looks like I’m not the only one.”

“Downside to sobriety, my insomnia came back.”

Awkwardly perching on the couch, Bret sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Good for you, getting sober,” he finally said after an uncomfortable silence that the other man seemed unaware of.

“Thanks.” Sighing as he marked his place, Scott set the book he’d been reading aside. “That whole conversation from earlier is bugging you, isn’t it?”

“… Is it that obvious?”

Scott shrugged. “Might not be to anyone else, but Kev and me? If anyone gets it, it’s us.”

“I don’t…” Bret huffed, sitting back, and crossing his arms over his chest as he mulled over what to say. “I don’t get where the abandonment issues come from, or hell, even how he was with you two if Marty was cheating on him almost constantly. Shit, I don’t get any of it.”

“I can’t answer you on the abandonment issues. Well, I _can,_ but I’m not going to,” Scott amended almost immediately. “It’s nothing personal, but things Shawn’s told Kev and I in confidence, they’re staying that way until he says otherwise. I won’t apologize for that. You can hate us all you want, but we’ve already damaged the trust he had in us when we decided to go back to WCW and didn’t tell him right away. We’re not doing that again.”

“I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it,” Bret stated with a sigh. “It never bothered any of you that… he and Kevin were together before you came to WWF?”

“I knew they were sleeping together. Fuck, I was the one who told Kevin to go for it when Shawn first made a pass at him. We didn’t know if or when I’d get signed, so we agreed that in the end, we’d come back to each other. Whatever happened in that time, happened and we wouldn’t hold it against the other.” Hall chuckled quietly. “Frankly, you should be thanking him.”

“For what?”

“Janetty didn’t like Shawn being loud in bed, and even made the boy feel bad about having a high sex drive. Kevin said the first time they had sex he actually didn’t think Shawn was even enjoying himself because he was so quiet.”

“Sounds like the most boring sex in the world.” Bret paused for a second, before saying, “he said he had to talk you guys into getting rough.”

“That’s somewhat true,” Scott conceded after a moment. “Everything was good for a while, then I accidently choked him unconscious one night and it took a while for us to feel comfortable doing that again. Shawn, of course, thought it was great, but it legitimately scared the fuck out of me because I thought I’d killed him.”

“I think that would terrify anyone, to be honest. It’s not like you were trying to or that you’ve actually ever killed somebody.”

Visibly tensing in the dim light of the lamps he’d left on, Scott looked away abruptly. “I was twenty-four,” he stated in a tremulous tone after several minutes of uncomfortable silence. “I hadn’t really broken into wrestling yet, and I was working as a bouncer at the Dollhouse in Orlando. One night, I got into a fight with a guy, dude pulled a gun on me. I remember trying to get it away from him, and then the next thing I know, there’s a gunshot. I’m covered in blood and the guy is… dead on the ground, brains blown out the back of his skull.”

Bret stared at him uncomprehendingly for several minutes because _holy shit._ “That’s why it scared you so badly,” he finally said quietly. “And Shawn… he doesn’t know, does he?”

“No, God no, and Hunter doesn’t know either, for that matter. Kevin knows, of course, so does Vince. A few other people within the higher ups at WWF and WCW. I’ll tell him eventually, probably would’ve by now if he’d chosen to be with me and Kev.” Looking back at the Canadian finally, Scott shrugged a little. “See why he had to talk us back into it?”

“I’m surprised you even agreed to do it again after that,” Bret stated weakly, his normal disdain for the other man disappearing under the weight of this new knowledge.

“He doesn’t remember it because he was pretty out of it after he came to, but I couldn’t even touch him. Or have him touch me. I spent half that night curled into a fucking corner with a bottle of Jack, shaking so badly I couldn’t even stand.” 

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because you needed to understand why Kev and I were so cautious with him and why we did the things we’ve done for him. And, well, whether Shawn is ready to admit it or not, he has some serious feelings for you. He could’ve just allowed your relationship to crash and burn by spinning out of control, but he swallowed his fear and asked for help instead. I don’t think you truly realize just how big of a step that is for him. I’m man enough to admit that you’re better for him than Kevin and I would’ve been. We love him, in our way, and he loves us but it’s nothing like what he very obviously feels for you.”

Scott sighed, kicking the foot of the recliner down and standing up, moving to head upstairs to the guest room. Pausing in the doorway, he halfway looked over his shoulder at the other man. “We’re trusting you to take care of our boy, Hart. Don’t let us down.”

Lost for words, Bret watched him go before heading back upstairs himself. Climbing back into bed, he silently laughed when Shawn automatically wrapped around him the moment he got comfortable again. _I hope you know how much we all love you,_ he thought to himself, brushing Shawn’s hair back gently, and smiling a little when the other man made a contented noise in his sleep.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

After a rather pointed phone conversation with his mother, Bret finally found the time (he refused to think of his delay as being caused by nerves) to bring up Christmas plans. "I know you normally go to your parents for Christmas," he began as they got ready to get on the road, "but... would you possibly like to come to Calgary with me and spend Christmas with my family?"

“Uh... what?” Shawn blinked several times, wondering if he’d actually heard Bret right. The Canadian had been fidgety and quiet all morning but he definitely hadn’t expected this. “Christmas... in Calgary?” he repeated back slowly.

"Yeah, I mean, if you want to?" Bret shrugged awkwardly. "I know my family can be... well, a lot to handle all at once."

Shawn stayed quiet while they finished packing their bags into the car. It wasn’t until he was in the passenger seat and buckled that he finally spoke. “I’d like that. To... meet the whole family. It’s just strange. I’ve never been away from my family for Christmas. I always drive home.”

Buckling his own seatbelt after starting the car, Bret looked over at him, reaching out and lacing their hands together. "You're sure? I don't want it to be too much for you mentally. There's a lot of us, especially with almost everyone else having kids. Upside is, it'll only be you and I staying with my parents, so you'll get a bit of a break." He laughed a little. "And no, my mom isn't going to make us sleep in different rooms."

“That’s why you’d never come to a holiday with my family.” Shawn laughed, squeezing Bret’s hand fondly. “My mom is a ‘supportive at a distance so long as I don’t have to see it’ type person. My ‘friends’ are welcome for the holidays, but you have to sleep separate because mom doesn’t want any ‘foolishness’ under her roof.”

"If you ever wanted me to, I'd go with you of course. My mom practically demanded I bring you," Bret replied, internally cringing at the blistering talk she'd given him. "You'll get to experience plenty of snow at Christmas for once."

“Oh god.” Shawn wrinkled his nose at the prospect. “It’s gonna be so cold.”

Laughing as he released Shawn's hand to put the car in gear, Bret nodded. "Yeah, but you'll have me to keep you warm at least."

“Remember that when you get attacked by my cold toes,” Shawn scoffed. “And when I complain about all my aches and pains.”

"It'll be fine, baby, I promise. You'll have plenty of kids all vying for your attention and God only knows how many photo albums my mom will drag out to embarrass the hell out of me. You won’t even be thinking about the cold."

“As long as your folks know how to turn on a damn heater, I’ll be fine.”

"They're Canadian, brat, of course they know how to do that."

“Yeah but still,” Shawn mumbled petulantly.

"I absolutely swear, the heat is always on and they've even got a fireplace," Bret vowed. "You will not be lacking for warmth."

“Fireplace,” Shawn gasped, eyes wide. “I fucking love those.”

"What's so special about a fireplace?"

“Because they’re warm and fire. My Nana’s house had one when I was a kid.”

"Well I didn't know that! You didn't tell me that until just now." Bret paused. "You know we can cuddle in front of it."

“Yet another reason they’re amazing,” Shawn agreed with a smile. “They’re perfect for cuddling.”

Cracking a smile, Bret nodded. "Can't wait," he admitted. "And hey, you get to see the infamous Hart family dungeon."

“I still think that is the most over dramatic name for a basement.”

"Felt more like a torture chamber some days, so dungeon was fitting."

“Man, had some of the dumbest rules with Jose. If he heard you swear in the gym, you ran a lap around the gym outside in the summer heat. And the man was psychic. He knew what you said even if he wasn’t in the room to hear it.”

"My dad caught Dean and I smoking a joint one time and beat the absolute fuck out of us for it. The man still scares the shit out of his former students, not to mention the rest of the family. He's the one I learned that look from. The one where people just shut the hell up when I look at them?" Bret laughed, rolling his eyes, and smiling fondly. "Except you, you seem to take it as a personal challenge."

“What can I say? You’re hot when you’re angry.” Shawn shrugged. “Dropped a weight on my foot once in the gym and cussed up a storm. Jose rushed over and asked if I was alright. I told him it hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t think I broke it. He just said ‘glad to hear it. Go run sixteen’. It was over a hundred degrees outside.”

"At least it wasn't in the snow. Sounds like dad and Jose would get along great."

“You try running four miles in that type of heat!” Shawn exclaimed. “Jesus, snow would be easier than that shit.”

"I'd rather not, but if you want to give it a shot, we can go for a run in the snow," Bret joked, glancing over with a smile. "Besides, I thought we'd decided back when we first started dating that we had it equally rough."

“Oh god no!” Shawn exclaimed. “No running in the snow. And yes, equally rough. As long as you quit trying to one up me.”

"I wasn't trying to one up you, just pointing out we had similar experiences," Bret protested, laughing. "And good, I had zero intentions of running in the snow if I didn't have to."

“I know, baby. I’m just messing with you, but I absolutely do not want to do anything in the snow.”

"So if I tackle you in the snow and kiss you, you'll get mad at me?"

“I’ll scream like a little girl because it’s cold.”

"You really think I would I do that to you, baby?"

“Yes! Yes, you would!” Shawn exclaimed. “You totally would do something like that.”

"... Ok, that's fair."

Shawn laughed, shaking his head. “You ass.”

A couple of weeks later, sitting in the car outside of his childhood home, Bret looked over at Shawn. "You ready?" He asked, squeezing Shawn's hand gently. "It's just my parents to start, we've got a couple days before the rest begin showing up."

Shawn took a deep breath, looking nervously at the front door. “Your folks really don’t mind that I’m a guy? And that I’m here? I just... god. This is a lot.”

Bret shook his head. "No, baby, they don't care you're a guy. Mom was the one who basically declared you family and demanded I bring you to meet everyone." He paused, trying to think of something to make Shawn feel better, more confident. "You want to come up with something that'll tell me you need to get away from everyone? Like... that safe word thing? Something only we'd get?"

“You want to have a Christmas code word?” Shawn laughed a little, shaking his head. “That’s actually really funny.”

Bret shrugged. "I'm just trying to think of something to help you feel better. We are talking about my family, who could be a small army at this point, after all. They can be a little overwhelming." He sighed, looking down at their hands. "I just want you to be alright."

“I know, and it’ll be okay,” Shawn promised. “I’m sure once we’re inside, I’ll be fine. It’s just... you only make one first impression.”

"If you need a break, you're to let me know," Bret replied, his tone turning serious.

Shawn swallowed hard, nodding quickly at the sudden tone change. “Yes sir...”

Leaning in, Bret drew him into a kiss. "Good boy. Now let's go inside."

Shawn nodded, pulling on his jacket, and zipping it before stepping out. He hadn’t been joking with Bret about not doing well with cold.

Grabbing their stuff from the trunk, Bret led Shawn up the front stairs, digging his keys out and opening the door. "Hey mom," he called out, breaking into a smile when she poked her head out to greet them.

"Bret!" Helen beckoned them inside even as she approached. "God, close the door, it's absolutely freezing outside!"

Shawn chuckled at the first reaction. “Well at least your mom has sense about the cold.”

“Ah, this is nothing. Should have seen the boys shoveling snow in ‘82. Your eyelashes would freeze,” Stu commented as he walked around the corner and into the kitchen to join his wife.

Bret grimaced at the memory. "Yeah, that was fun. _Not_ ," he muttered under his breath as he pointedly closed the door. "Shawn, these are my parents, Helen and Stu Hart. Mom, dad, this is Shawn, my boyfriend."

As promised, Helen didn't even bat an eyelash. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she enthused, holding her hand out, while shooting her son a look. "I've been after that one to bring you home to meet everyone for a while now."

Shawn laughed, shaking Helen and Stu’s hands in turn. “Well, I won’t lie. A good part of that is my fault. I complained an awful lot about the cold the whole plane ride up.”

"You've complained about it since the day I asked you about coming," Bret corrected with a laugh.

"This winter isn't too bad, not yet anyway," Helen replied with a small smile at both of them. "Go on, you two get settled and I'll have dinner ready in about an hour. And I promise, you won't be relegated to shoveling snow, Shawn. I've got eleven other boys I can put to work with no problem. Isn’t that right, Bret?”

Silently praying she’d let him out of it, Bret nodded automatically. “Yes ma’am.” Grabbing their things, he waited until his mom was out of earshot to mutter, “don’t get used to that, it’s your first holiday so you get a pass.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Shawn insisted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Makes me feel old.”

“Wait until your forties,” Stu confided with a laugh, waving them off. “Nothing moves right and it’s all downhill from there.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Hard part’s over now. I know most of the other adults,” Shawn commented as he followed Bret to their room.

"Yeah, there's only a couple of my siblings left to meet," Bret agreed. "Mom never really liked Julie, so in her mind, you're an improvement."

“My mom would like you. As soon as she gets over the whole ‘accidentally’ thinking that I’m dating a girl named Brittney who likes being called Brit.”

Snorting in laughter, the Canadian shook his head. "Honestly, I was more worried about my dad but you're a wrestler, so I think that goes a long way for him." Shutting the door behind them, he set his suitcase down before moving over to Shawn. "Thank you for coming with me."

Shawn smiled fondly at him, nodding. “I knew your folks would be sweet. It’s just... I’ve never done ‘meet the parents’ before. Ever. So that was the anxiety I was building off of.”

"Good thing I didn't tell you that you're the first guy I've ever brought home," Bret told him, returning the smile. "You alright now though?"

“I’m okay, and yeah, I’d have had a panic attack if you’d told me that before.”

"You looked on the verge of one anyway in the car, that's why I got kind of authoritative. Thought it might help." Reaching up, Bret brushed the back of his knuckles along Shawn's cheek. "You handled that well, I'm pretty impressed."

“It did help. Although I definitely got to keep an eye on you. Just in case you start abusing that power,” Shawn teased, leaning into the touches to his cheek.

"I like to think I use it pretty responsibly," he replied with a small laugh before slowly sobering. "I don't want you to feel obligated to say it back but uh..." Taking a deep breath, Bret let it out before saying softly, "I love you, Shawn."

Taking a step back and blinking slowly, Shawn looked at Bret in shock. “You... what? You can’t spring that shit on a guy, Bret!”

Bret took a step back as well, looking hurt. "Ouch," he muttered, averting his gaze, and turning away. Shoving a hand through his hair impatiently, he turned back around to face the other man head on. "Actually, no. You're probably sitting there, freaking out, wondering why, right? Why I love you, how can I love you. It's because I love how you look when you're in the ring, like you can't imagine being anywhere else even when you're being booed. The way you smile at me when you're deliberately pushing my buttons, or how you look at me when you wake up in the morning. The way you play with my hair when we're cuddling, and how you kiss me like you need me to fucking breathe sometimes.

"I love it when you're being a brat and when you're just being playful. How even when you piss me off so badly I just want to strangle you, I can't help but smile because of the way your eyes light up when you know you've pushed me to that point. I love that you came home with me, even though you were scared to death. Your courage, your fire, everything. You're absolutely everything I've ever wanted and didn't know I needed until you. So yes, Michael Shawn Hickenbottom, I fucking love you. Not HBK, the damn ring persona you wear like armor, but _you_."

Shawn’s eyes welled up while Bret spoke and all he could do was drop his head. Bret didn’t get emotional. He didn’t talk that much in a burst expect maybe in a promo. “Did you rehearse that in the mirror?” he asked weakly, making a little bit of a joke because humor was self-defense and he really didn’t know how to react to all this at the moment.

"No," Bret muttered succinctly, folding his arms over his chest. "Every word I just said was the first time I've said them out loud."

“Jesus,” Shawn whispered, rubbing his face. “Bret, I... I want to say it back. I really do. I just... I-I can’t.” He really hoped Bret understood. That this was just one level of his trauma that he just couldn’t step over yet. He wanted to desperately but admitting it out loud meant losing the last piece of the armor on his heart and he just couldn’t yet.

"I told you, you don't need to feel obligated to say it back," Bret replied with a sigh. "I just got tired of hiding it from you. I know how badly people have hurt you in the past, so I wasn't exactly expecting it anyway."

Shawn took a deep breath, stepping forward and cradling Bret’s face between his hands. “I do, though. Just because I can’t say the words doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. Because you took every issue I’ve got and ran with it. You have always pushed me to be better, even before we were together. I wanted to be the best in the ring because it meant I could go toe to toe with you. You got me, Bret. I’m yours. Come hell or high water.”

Dropping his arms from their crossed position, Bret slid them around Shawn's waist. "Damn right you are," he stated possessively, smiling a little.

“Wasn’t as poetic as your thing.” Shawn laughed a little, moving his arms down to wrap around Bret. “But I mean it just as much.”

"I really wasn't expecting to say all that out loud," Bret admitted with a weak laugh, resting his forehead against Shawn's. "But it seemed a better alternative to walking away to calm down and let you get all in your head."

“I didn’t know you could say that many words at once.” Shawn laughed, bumping his nose against Bret’s. “And I appreciate it. I know I get wrapped up in my head pretty easily and I’m trying to work on it. Talking through it helps a lot, which... I never really put together for some reason.”

"Amazing what the right incentive will do, huh, baby?" Bret returned with a small laugh of his own. "I know you're working on things, and I'm so proud of you for how good you're doing."

“A little bit of good incentive,” Shawn agreed, kissing over Bret’s cheek and neck lightly.

Smiling a bit wider at the kisses, Bret tilted his head slightly for easier access. "One of the best incentives, I'd say."

“Don’t tempt me to leave hickeys where your family can see.” Shawn laughed.

"Mom and dad wouldn't say anything, but God knows my sisters would," Bret replied with a vaguely regretful sigh as he straightened up. "We've still got dinner to get through, so you should stop anyway before I just toss you on the bed and keep you there the rest of the day."

Shawn rolled his eyes fondly, stepping back a little. “Well, we shouldn’t do that. Can’t have tomfoolery in your parents’ house.”

Laughing loudly, Bret looked at him curiously. "I'm sorry, _what_? And if you honestly think we're not having sex the entire time we're here, you're out of your mind, sweetheart." Still lightly chuckling, he shook his head fondly. "Come on, we need to get ready for dinner."

“My mom’s rule is ‘no tomfoolery in the house’,” Shawn replied with a laugh. “So couples have to sleep in separate rooms. Well, unless they’re married. And I better not have to go the entirety of a week at _Christmas_ with no sex because I will actually throw a fit. If you want to see a brat, that’s how it happens.”

Bret shrugged as he moved to his suitcase. "My parents thing is we're consenting adults, just keep it down. Made sure to ask before we came up, so of course we're not going without sex." He glanced over his shoulder at Shawn. "Just means you'll have to be my good boy and not be too loud."

Stomping his foot, Shawn pouted at him. “Bret! You can’t say shit like that when I have to go be social and friendly. Now I won’t stop thinking about it.”

Setting aside his change of clothes, Bret moved over to Shawn, hands coming up to cup his face. "What you will do is get changed," he ordered quietly, "and after dinner, if you behave, I'll make sure you're very thoroughly rewarded. Understand?"

“You’re being an ass.” Shawn huffed, stepping back with a whine, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t do that kind of stuff.”

"I'm sorry, ok? Now will you stop throwing a fit and just please get changed and ready for dinner," Bret replied patiently, pulling his shirt off.

Shawn dropped his arms and nodded. “Thank you. See? Talking to me like an adult is possible,” He remarked, walking over to his suitcase, and pulling out a fresh shirt and starting to change.

"Sometimes," Bret muttered teasingly, pulling on a clean shirt.

Laughing, Shawn swatted Bret’s side. “Oh hush.”

Reaching out, Bret tugged at Shawn's hair in retaliation. "Such a brat, I swear."

“Oh and pulling on my hair is _so_ mature.”

"You normally like it."

“Again: only when we’re playing or fucking.”

Shrugging, Bret laughed. "You know you love it when I'm playful with you, don't lie."

“Not when I have to go be social with your parents,” Shawn pointed out. “Parents are firmly in the ‘no foreplay in front of’ category.”

Making a face, Bret nodded in agreement. "While I do agree with you on that, we're currently not in front of them, so this doesn't count."

Shawn huffed, buttoning up his shirt and putting his hair back up neatly.

"You're huffy because you know I'm right," Bret remarked with a small smile, holding out a hand for Shawn. "I promise, baby, no more teasing until we're alone again, okay?"

“Thank you,” Shawn replied, accepting Bret’s hand, and stepping closer. “At least not while it’s just us and your family. They would totally notice me acting funny.”

"Only behind closed doors and when we won't have to go out and deal with them," Bret promised before leaning in and kissing him.

“Thanks, babe.” Shawn bumped his nose against Bret’s affectionately.

Bopping Shawn on the nose with a finger, Bret nodded. "You're welcome. Come on," he said, tugging on Shawn's hand gently.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Was beginning to wonder if I had to send your dad after you," Helen remarked as Bret and Shawn made their way to the dining room.

"We just had some things to talk over," Bret replied with a half shrug, finally releasing Shawn's hand.

"Don't let him scare you," she directed at Shawn. "You're as good as family now."

“He’s been a perfect gentleman about the whole trip,” Shawn promised. “Can’t speak to anything else, but the trip he’s been nice about.”

Turning pink at the rather knowing look his mom shot him, Bret steadfastly refused to look at either of them. "Do you need any help mom?"

Laughing, his mom shook her head. "No, go on," she replied with a wave as she went back in the kitchen.

Shawn grinned at Bret, sticking his tongue out quickly before ducking away. “You have a beautiful home, Ma’am.”

Glaring at Shawn in mild annoyance, Bret shook his head even as he reluctantly smiled. _Brat_ , he mouthed at him.

"Well, thank you, sweetheart," Helen called back. "Remind me later, I've got plenty of photo albums that I can show you."

"Mom."

"He's the first person you've brought home since Julie. It's tradition, I've done it with all my sons and daughters in law."

Covering his face with one hand, Bret just sighed and sat down at the table.

“Yeah, Bret.” Shawn grinned. “It’s tradition. You wouldn’t want me to miss out on the important Hart family values, would you?”

Shifting his hand to give Shawn a death glare, Bret huffed and was only saved by his mom beginning to bring things to the table. "You sure you don't want help?" He asked, his tone a little plaintive.

Helen just looked at him, a small smile hovering over her lips. "You don't have me fooled, son, you just want to try to talk me out of showing off pictures."

"I'm trying to be a good son," he argued, backing down when she leveled a look at him.

"It's happening whether you like it or not. But if you want to help, go get your father." She made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on."

Bret stood up with a sigh, shooting a last annoyed look at a grinning Shawn, before heading to go find his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation between Bret and Scott wasn't in the original RP, as I also rp'd Kevin and Scott. While I was transcribing the roleplay into a story, the muses decided they needed to have a serious conversation. - Sinderella


	6. Chapter 6

“It’s kind of hilarious seeing him act like a normal person,” Shawn commented. “He’s usually so... sure of himself.”

Laughing, Helen patted Shawn on the shoulder as she passed back into the kitchen. "By the time I had him, I'd learned a few tricks," she confided. "And Stu would never tolerate them being the slightest bit disrespectful of me."

Shawn nodded sagely. “I understand that. I was the youngest of four and still got the fear of God instilled. Rule one of the house was don’t disrespect Mama.”

Helen hummed her agreement as she brought the final dish to the table. "You know, this is the happiest I think I've ever seen him?" She questioned quietly, looking in the direction her son had gone. "I don't think he was even really happy with Julie. He probably felt that because all of his siblings were marrying and settling down, he should too. Far as I'm concerned, you're one of us now."

“Thank you,” Shawn said quietly. “I really do hope I make him happy. He’s been... very patient with my anxieties. Especially over this trip. My own family had me a bit paranoid about ‘meeting the parents’.”

"I've never expected my kids to hide who they are or who they chose to be with. I've had people tell me I'm progressive for that, but I've always felt that to have a child was to love them without conditions." She shrugged casually, smiling a little sympathetically at Shawn. "I wanted him to bring you before the holidays, that way you could meet Stu and I without the pressure of all of Bret's siblings and their respective spouses and kids, but I know it's hard for you two to get time off. So, I made sure he knew if he didn't at least ask about Christmas he'd be shoveling snow by himself for the whole week."

"Now, you probably already know, but Bret's stubborn as an ox," Helen told him, her tone becoming warm but serious. "He doesn't do subtly very well, so it's best to be direct. Otherwise you'll just frustrate the both of you. When he gets well and truly mad, he won't want to listen to reason or explanations unless you can out yell him."

“Yeah, I can tell.” Shawn laughed. “He brings that to the ring with him, I’ve had enough matches to know that much.” He smiled fondly, looking up at the woman now. “He’s a good man. He’s got a temper and one of the weirdest senses of humor I’ve ever seen but he’s a good man.”

Helen gave him a pleased smile, patting Shawn on the cheek fondly. "So are you," she remarked. "So are you."

When they were finally back in the bedroom, Shawn flopped face down on the bed, groaning into the pillow. Bret’s folks were great, but it was still people that he had to be friendly and social with.

"You and mom have a nice talk earlier?" Bret questioned as he closed the bedroom door behind them, smiling a little at Shawn sprawled face down on the bed.

Shawn nodded, turning his head to the side to speak. “Yeah, it was nice. She’s really sweet.”

"Told you she'd love you," Bret remarked as he came over to the side of the bed, nudging Shawn to get him to move over. "You doing okay so far, baby?"

“Yeah I’m good.” Shawn nodded again as he made room. “Think I’m just tired after the flight, the car ride... and then being social. It was a little much.”

Settling into bed beside him, Bret smiled a little as he brushed Shawn's hair away from his face. "My sweet boy, you did so good today," he murmured appreciatively. "I'm so proud of you. I know how anxious you've been about this whole trip, but you're handling it so well."

Humming happily, he leaned up enough to nuzzle Bret’s hand. “Thank you, ‘m trying.”

"I know you are," Bret agreed, cupping Shawn's cheek in his hand. "We've got one more day of peace before everyone else starts arriving, so how about we get our cuddle time in front of the fireplace in tomorrow? Would you like that?"

“Ooh, fireplace!” Shawn gasped, lifting himself up to kneeling position. “Yes please.”

"Tomorrow," Bret promised, beckoning Shawn back to him. "Come here and lay down."

Shawn grumbled a little, but it stopped quickly once he was cuddled up to Bret’s side. “Fine. Tomorrow then.”

"We'll do whatever you want tomorrow, since you did so good today," Bret told him, draping an arm over Shawn, and pulling him in close. "Absolutely anything you want to do."

“Sounds exciting.” Shawn yawned, nuzzling Bret’s neck sleepily.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart, you've had a long day," Bret murmured, gently playing with Shawn's hair. "Love you, baby."

Shawn hummed happily, mumbling his response as he drifted off. “... you too.”

Carefully extricating himself from Shawn's still sleeping form the next morning, Bret groaned a little as his back popped. _One more day until the Hart family invasion,_ he thought to himself as he stood up, heading towards the bathroom to shower and wake up. _God, I hope Shawn doesn't want to sight see in the fucking cold._

Waking up just minutes after Bret left, Shawn grumbled in complaint and shuffled toward the bathroom. “Breeet, unlock the door. I wanna shower before your folks wake up.”

Stepping out of the shower, Bret unlocked the door and opened it a hair to indicate Shawn was welcome. "They're probably already up, or at least dad is," he admitted as he ducked back under the spray.

“House is still dark and quiet,” Shawn responded as he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the curtained shower behind Bret, hugging the man around his back and sleepily nuzzling his shoulder. “I ever tell you I like your shoulders? They’re really big.”

"They might be sleeping in then," Bret conceded, turning his head as Shawn nuzzled his shoulder. "No, you haven't but it's always nice to be appreciated." He paused, putting his hands over Shawn's. "You got any ideas of what you want to do today?"

“It’s snowing,” Shawn pointed out. “And you promised cuddling by the fireplace. Which sounds amazing because my back is stiff as hell after yesterday and with the cold.”

"I did promise cuddling by the fireplace, didn't I?" Bret agreed with a small laugh. "Ok, sounds like a good plan."

“Yay.” He hummed, kissing Bret’s shoulder. “Gotta say, the bathtub shower thing? This is a lot smaller than we usually have. It’s kinda cute.”

"Don't think my parents ever expected two people to shower at the same time."

“I’m full of surprises.” Shawn laughed, getting quiet before adding, “Like, maybe us getting a house up here?”

Bret paused, blinking, before turning around to face him. "Are you serious?"

“Sure. I mean, it isn’t fair to expect you to spend all your time at my ranch when your family is all up here.”

"It'd beat the hell out of staying with my parents every time we wanted to come see them," he agreed, coming around to the idea pretty quickly. "Can build a bigger shower, that's for sure "

“Absolutely,” Shawn agreed. “And a big garden tub like I’ve got at the ranch. Can’t say I won’t complain about being up here when it’s cold, but we could definitely stay up here during the summer.”

"Hmmm sounds like a pretty damn good idea," Bret replied with a smile. "Doesn't get near as hot up here as it does in Texas."

“I know. That’s why I said summer. Can’t promise I’ll be up here much during the winter. It’s really fucking cold out.”

Reaching up to cradle Shawn's face in his hands, Bret laughed lightly. "My poor little southern boy can't take a little snow," he teased fondly.

“Six inches is a little?” Shawn scoffed. “Yeah, sure snow man.”

"Considering the average is about fifty inches? Yeah, six inches is a little. In the mountains, at some of the ski resorts? They can get like thirty feet. Sometimes it can get to about six feet, but this year doesn’t seem too bad."

“Feet?” Shawn repeated, horrified. “Six feet? Like, my height six feet? Six fucking feet of snow... Jesus, I was trying to be all cute and shit offering the house thing. Didn’t think I was signing up for a frozen hell.”

"Baby, we'd only get snowfall about three months out of the year," Bret hastened to reassure. "So it's honestly not as terrible as you're thinking. If it helps, summertime the highs are only in the seventies."

“Well okay. Seventies are more like home, so I guess it’ll be okay.”

"I promise, only the occasional winter up here if we get a house up here," Bret told him, before drawing him into a lingering kiss.

“Okay,” Shawn mumbled into the kiss before pulling back. “but we have to have a fireplace.”

"Of course we will get a fireplace."

“Good. Now if you want any more kisses, you’ve got to brush your teeth.”

Rolling his eyes, Bret splashed him in irritation. "Such a damn brat."

“But it’s stinky.”

"Alright, alright, I'll brush my damn teeth. Though you need to brush yours too, you know."

“Absolutely.”

"You're lucky I love you," Bret muttered fondly. "Turn around, I'll wash your back."

“Aw thanks baby.” Shawn laughed, pushing his hair off his face.

"I know it's been bothering you since we've gotten here," he explained with a shrug, putting some body wash on his hands, and lathering them. "And I like to think I'm pretty considerate of your needs."

“You take good care of me,” Shawn agreed. “And yeah, my back is just stiff from sitting in one position so much.”

Massaging Shawn's back, focusing especially along his spine, Bret nodded absently even though Shawn couldn't see him. "You take pretty good care of me in return. Even braved the snow and cold just for me, to come meet my family."

Shawn smiled fondly. “I try. I don’t always feel like I’m good at that part of this. Being supportive and shit.”

"Don't sell yourself short. You're not terrible at it either," Bret pointed out reasonably as he physically turned Shawn to face him again. "I can see how much you're trying, and that goes a long way for me."

Shawn smiled, lifting Bret’s hand to his face, and kissing his palm. “Thanks, babe.”

Bret nodded, smiling. "You're welcome." Kissing Shawn on the forehead briefly, he proceeded to get out of the shower. "Don't take too much longer, you're cutting into your cuddle time."

Shawn laughed, turning off the shower behind him and stepping out with Bret. “Are you kidding me? That fireplace is calling my name.”

Laughing as he dried off, Bret shook his head. "It's not going anywhere," he teased, picking up his toothbrush.

Helen rose up from where she'd just lit the fireplace, dusting her hands off and smiling at the sight of them as they came downstairs together. "Good morning boys," she offered with a smile. "I've already got coffee ready."

"I don't think I tell you I love you enough," Bret told her sincerely, making her laugh.

*Oh hush," she replied, patting him on the shoulder as she passed. "I'm still digging out the photo albums, no matter how much you try to sweet talk me."

"Damnit."

"Watch your language!"

"Sorry."

“Coffee and fire? I might be dating the wrong Hart,” Shawn joked. “Mama Hart knows how to start a morning.”

"You want to tell me dad that?" Bret questioned with a laugh as he grabbed a quilt off the back of the couch and sat down. "C'mon."

Shawn laughed, immediately snuggling up beside Bret on the couch with a happy sound, wrapping his arms around Bret’s waist and nuzzling his shoulder as he settled. “Very nice.”

Throwing the blanket over them, he draped an arm over Shawn's shoulders with a quiet, content sigh. "Fireplace is a definite must if we get a house here," Bret agreed with a quiet chuckle.

“You gonna tell your mom yet?” Shawn asked curiously.

"Actually, why don't we tell her? She'll be thrilled no matter what but... it'd be nice to do it together."

“That’s the plan, silly. I was asking if you wanted to tell her during this trip or if you wanted to wait until we were finding a place.”

Swatting at him halfheartedly, Bret thought about it for a second. "If we do it now, she can probably help us find something quicker than we would on our own. Especially since we've got the rumble and WrestleMania in the next few months."

“You have a point.” Shawn nodded, leaning his head on Bret’s shoulder. “What do we want though? Like, rooms? Bathrooms? Do we need plural? Do we want plural?”

Bret lifted the shoulder Shawn wasn't leaning on in a shrug. "You want something kind of similar to the ranch?"

“I mean, the ranch is easier to get to and from when we’re on the road. So it makes sense for that to be the bigger spot. Maybe just a little place up here? Something cute and just for us.”

"That's fair. So maybe something like two or three bedrooms? Turn one of them into a gym or something."

Shawn nodded. “I’d like that. Still gotta stay fit even on days off.”

"So we'll do that then."

Helen chose that moment to come back in, carrying a tray that had two steaming coffee mugs and a plate of cinnamon rolls. "You two look cozy," she teased with a smile as she set it down. "Oh I wanted to tell you, your father and I are doing Christmas a bit different."

Bret looked at her a little warily. "How so?"

"Well, with all of your siblings married and most of them having kids, we're splitting it into two parts. Some of them will come in the morning, have breakfast and the rest will come by at dinner. Keeps me from total exhaustion."

"That's not a bad idea. Is everyone even coming?"

Helen shrugged. "I'm calling around today to double check, but I think only Smith, Ross and Georgia aren't able to make it. They came for Thanksgiving, though, so that's alright."(edited)

“Which bunch is Owen in?” Shawn asked curiously. “Gotta be ready so we can terrorize Bret in stereo.”

"Knowing Owen, he'll show up for both," Bret remarked dryly, making his mom laugh.

"You're probably right about that," she agreed with a nod at Bret. "But I think he and Martha are coming for dinner."

"Well, at least Shawn won't be overwhelmed with all the grandkids at once this way."

Laughing again as she headed back to the kitchen, Helen nodded. "You might want to tell him just how many nieces and nephews he's inherited now."

“It’s in the twenties now, right?” Shawn asked, glancing up at Bret’s face.

Bret counted them mentally before nodding. "I think it's like twenty-eight. No, wait. Michelle's kids are honorary ones, so thirty-one?"

Shawn shook his head. “Jesus. Hope I don’t have to remember all the names. Do they wear name tags?”

Snorting in laughter, Bret shook his head. "Don't feel bad, my siblings have to remind me who's who a lot. Think the only ones I actually remember are Owen's, Ellie's, and Diana's. Mainly due to Jim and Davey working with us, they'll talk about them a lot." He shot Shawn a smile, tightening his arm around him briefly. "Looks like mom's adopted you."

“Well thankfully I don’t have any kids to add to the mix.”

"Pretty sure that's a good thing, there's too many of us already.”

Shawn nodded, leaning up to kiss Bret’s cheek. “So... should we tell then at family breakfast?”

Turning his head to look at him, Bret nodded with a smile. "Sounds like a pretty good plan to me."

“Well, I could still change my mind.”

"We're telling them tomorrow.”

“Yes dear.”

"Stop being a brat or you won't get one of your presents early."

Shawn laughed at that. “Nice try but we didn’t do presents.”

"Maybe you didn't."

“Oh god, Bret, please tell me you’re joking.”

Laughing now, Bret half shrugged. "I mean, I guess it's technically not a gift. More just me being generous, I suppose."

“That’s called a gift, dumbass!” Shawn swatted at him in annoyance. “Damn it, Bret! Now I feel like a fucking heel.”

Shifting a little to face him more, Bret shook his head. "No need for that, baby, you came home with me. Between that and offering to buy a house up here with me? That's enough of a gift."

“Sure you say that now.”

"What do you mean by that?"

“Wait until Christmas when everyone is doing presents...” Shawn shrugged. “Then you’ll get bummed.”

"Have I lied to you yet?" Bret challenged. "I swear, it's fine. I'm not even talking about an actual present, you brat. I'm just being respectful of the fact that either of my parents can walk in on us talking. And if you think for a second mom won't be going out at some point today to get you something, you're crazy."

“Your mom is great. And fine. As long as it’s not a thing.”

"Just me. Hope you're not terribly disappointed."

“Just put a bow on it and it’ll be perfect.”

"I don't know about all that now," Bret laughed, settling back. "But you might be able to convince me."

“Put a bow on it and I’ll jingle your bells until we have a white Christmas.” Shawn smirked, saying the horrible joke with far too much ease while keeping a straight face.

Bret promptly smacked him on the arm. "Don't say things like that when my mom can hear you," he growled in a low voice.

“Did somebody forget to tell their family that half of my personality is dirty jokes?” Shawn teased.

Voice going a bit deeper, Bret growled out, "Shawn. That's enough." He shook his head. "You and I both know there's more to you than that. You know I don't normally care but this isn't the place for that, baby."

Shawn sulked, giving a sad little nod, and reaching for his coffee. “Yeah, okay. I’ll behave.”

"You'd better, there's going to be a lot of kids here tomorrow. Some of them even like you already, believe it or not." Reaching for his own coffee, Bret laughed a little. "Wonder how they're going to react seeing you here and being told to call you uncle."

“Can’t have people liking me. It would ruin my reputation.”

"I like you," Bret pointed out reasonably. "Don't think that's ruined either of our reputations. Probably caused most of the RAW roster to lose a bunch of money, though."

“Would ruin our reputation if anyone actually knew,” Shawn pointed out. “Locker room doesn’t count. They always assume or think what they want anyway.”

"Baby, we're talking about a bunch of kids whose parents are either wrestlers or married to wrestlers. They all understand kayfabe." Pausing to take a sip of coffee, Bret amended, "well, Oje is an exception. But he's two, so. I'm not talking about announcing it on international news channels."

I know that,” Shawn assured. “I’m not worried about the Hart/Neidhart army.”

"Not so nervous now that mom and dad accepted you?" Bret questioned quietly, reaching over and patting Shawn on the thigh.

“Yeah I’m alright.” Shawn shrugged, grabbing a cinnamon roll to eat. “It’s not too bad now.”

"You sure?" Bret ventured. "You seem a little off kilter."

“I’m fine,” Shawn insisted around a mouthful of food. “Quit worrying.”

Setting down his coffee, Bret shook his head. "No, something is up with you and you're going to tell me. That was our deal."

“I’m not lying!” Shawn argued. “Maybe you’re just freaked because I’m actually okay for once.”

"I don't think you are but I'm not arguing with you.”

“Christ, Bret. Not every word out of my mouth is a fucking lie.”

"Did I fucking say it was?" Bret growled back. "I said I'm not arguing so why are you starting one with me?"

“I’m tired of you second guessing everything I say,” Shawn hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard. “You’re acting like Kevin and it pisses me off. I’m not a fucking child.”

Throwing the blanket off of him, Bret stood up. "I never said you were a child, and I've done my best to not treat you like one," he said, his voice even. "I'm so sorry I want to make sure you're not just saying you're okay because you think it's what I want. I don't want you faking anything. If you need something, I want you to tell me not just be all 'oh I'm fine'."

“I’ve been trying to do that for months,” Shawn said, taking a deep breath to calm down. “And I’ve been okay for the most part lately aside from being nervous about the trip. I just want you to trust me that I will actually let you know if I’m not okay.”

Sighing in defeat, Bret nodded. "Okay," he said, sitting back down. "I'm sorry and I do trust you."

“Thank you., Shawn said softly, taking Bret’s hand and squeezing it. “I appreciate that you worry about me. I just want you to know that you don’t always have to.”

"You're welcome." Bret smiled a little, squeezing Shawn's hand in return. "I'll work on it," he promised quietly. "You want to cuddle some more?"

“Absolutely,” Shawn agreed.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next morning Shawn was a little nervous again, but he was dealing with it pretty well. He primped a bit while getting dressed and was feeling more himself which was pretty great. And he was excited about Bret‘s present too which he was amazed he’d managed to hide this long.

"You ready for today?" Bret questioned as he buttoned up his shirt, smiling a little at Shawn's obvious primping.

“Mmhmm.” Shawn nodded, frowning at his reflection before deciding to put his hair in a low ponytail instead of leaving it down.

"You're devastatingly gorgeous and everyone's going to be jealous of me," Bret remarked, crossing his arms as he waited. "So you can stop worrying."

“I know I’m gorgeous. Just trying not to make you look grossly old by comparison.”

"Don't think I won't deny you spankings later," Bret warned, tapping his fingers against his bicep. "Along with your surprise."

“Oh yeah?” Shawn laughed. “Well I can withhold your surprise too, y’know.”

Bret shrugged, completely unconcerned. "Eh, I can wait."

“Well okay but that means no naked parties until then.” Shawn shrugged. “Your choice, tough guy.”

Laughing lowly, Bret smirked at him as he dropped his arms. "You act like I can't seduce you right out of your clothes. Or that I can't call at least two men who could give me all kinds of ideas."

“Not right now you couldn’t. Got reasons for my secrets, mister.”

"And I've got reasons for mine," Bret countered with a laugh. "To be continued?"

Shawn rolled his eyes fondly. “Fine. You’ll love your surprise though.”

Bret smiled, gesturing Shawn over to him. "I'm sure you'll love yours too. Now, come here."

“Yeahhhh?” Shawn asked as he stepped closer, curiously cocking his head.

"I'm not going to tease you or anything," Bret promised as Shawn moved closer. "If you start getting overwhelmed or anything, just promise to let me know. Well-meaning as they are, my family can be a lot to handle even in small groups."

“I think breakfast will be fine,” Shawn assured. “Dinner is when I’ll probably need a break.”

Bret nodded. "Ok. Let's go downstairs before the invasion starts."

“Alright let’s get going then.”

Snagging Shawn's hand briefly, Bret tugged him into a quick kiss. "Merry Christmas, baby."

Shawn smiled fondly. “Merry Christmas.”

After the last of his siblings finally left, taking their respective spouses and kids with them, Bret heaved a relieved sigh as he sat down on the bed. "God, I'm glad mom didn't end up with as many of us as she wanted," he groaned, stretching his back until it popped. "You okay there, Shawn?"

Flopping back on the bed, Shawn let out a long groan before rubbing his face. “It was just a lot. The kids got a kick outta me talking though. Didn’t realize my accent was so thick but hey.”

"I must be used to it, I don't think it's that thick either," Bret replied with an amused huff, stretching out beside Shawn. "Proud of you, sweetheart. You handled today really well."

“I’m glad you think so. It was nice.”

"It was very nice." Humming contently, Bret shifted to his side, facing the other man. "Think we made mom's year when we brought up buying a house here. I haven't seen her that happy in years," he mused, reaching out and lightly brushing his fingers over Shawn's cheek. "Thank you."

Shawn smiled, leaning into the touch briefly before rolling to his side and wiggling in closer to the Canadian.

Smiling as Shawn wiggled in closer, Bret draped an arm over him. "Hey gorgeous."

“So, it’s Christmas Eve... you want your present now or tomorrow?”

"Now would be nice. You want yours tonight?”

“Can’t tonight, too tired. So your present tonight and mine tomorrow, yeah?”

Laughing, Bret nodded. "Sure, baby, that works."

Shawn hummed excitedly, heaving himself off the bed and standing to start stripping.

"Thought you were tired," Bret remarked, propping himself up on his elbow. "Not that I'm complaining."

“Haha. I’m wearing your present, dummy.”

"You are? Well okay then.

Shawn bit his bottom lip, taking a deep breath before dropping his jeans and underwear so he was fully naked. He turned to the side, enough that Bret could see the ink now set on his side, just above his hip bone. “What do you think?”

Bret stared at the ink uncomprehendingly for a few seconds. "You did that for me?" He asked quietly, more than a little surprised. "God, Shawn, it's... damn, I think it might actually have mine beat."

The other man lifted a shoulder in a shy shrug. “Do you like it? Not gonna lie, it was a bitch to get done in one session. And then to keep hidden for almost two weeks.” He laughed a little, walking over to the bed and sitting back down beside Bret.

Reaching out, the Canadian brushed his fingers over the ink. "Like it? Are you kidding me? Jesus, I fucking love it, baby."

Smiling a wide and relieved smile, Shawn laughed a little. “I’m really glad. Would have sucked to have gotten ink and you hated it. Can’t exactly wash it off.”

"Oh no, this better not be going anywhere," Bret replied with a laugh of his own, covering that tattoo with his palm possessively. "Never would've thought you'd do something like this for me."

“I get tattoos for important stuff.”

At a loss for words, Bret just shook his head a little. "I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it," he confessed with a laugh. "God, this... this means the world to me, you know that?"

“I was hoping you’d like it. I just didn’t realize how much.” Shawn smiled, kissing Bret’s cheek before laying back on the bed. “So I win best present this year?”

"Well, that depends," Bret mused as he settled down as well. "You want to know what yours is or do you just want to wait and find out?"

"You could tell me now," Shawn offered. "Maybe I'll take you up on it in the morning."

Pretending to consider it for a moment, Bret half shrugged. "I was going to see if you wanted to fuck me for a change." He huffed a bit in amusement and nervousness before adding quickly, "you'd be the first. And only."

“You want to try bottoming?” Shawn frowned, wanting to clarify what he heard. “I mean, because you want to and not just because you think I’d want to?”

"I wouldn't offer if it were something I didn't want to do. You know that."

“I’m just making sure,” Shawn promised. “I just feel like it’s a big deal for you and I want to be sure.”

"It is a big deal," Bret allowed, lightly stroking Shawn's hip. "But I trust you."

Bret’s obvious attachment to the tattoo made Shawn really grateful that it had healed so well in such a short time. “You really like the tattoo, huh?”

“Just didn’t know you were so possessive.”

"I mean, is that a bad thing?" Bret questioned hesitantly. "This just really... it kind of cemented that this is real, you know?" _Especially after you nearly panicked when I said I loved you,_ he avoided adding.

“Well yeah. Of course it’s real. I told you before, just because I can’t say something doesn’t mean I can’t feel it.”

"I know you feel the same, but it's still nice having some tangible proof. Maybe I'll get one next, who knows."

Shawn laughed. “I don’t know if I could imagine you with a tattoo. I get the feeling you don’t like needles.”

"Sorry to disappoint, it's nothing like that. Just never found something I liked enough to make a permanent part of me."

“But you like me enough for that?”

"Yeah, actually, I really do.”

Shawn smiled at him fondly, kissing Bret’s cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

Kissing Shawn on the cheek in return, Bret smiled. "You're welcome."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry y'all. Got sidetracked and before I knew it, it was Christmas. After the news of Brodie Lee's untimely passing broke yesterday, I figured I'd get off my butt and get this one out to you - Sinderella

Bret stepped out of the car, already unimpressed with the first house they were being shown. _The fuck is this_? He wondered, keeping his best poker face in place. "I don't know about this one, babe," he stated with a glance in Shawn's direction.

“I know we said rustic was good, but this is... crusty.” Shawn wrinkled his nose as he stepped out of the car and absently checked his knee brace where it covered from his mid-thigh to almost halfway down his shin. “Guess we could refurbish the outside if we liked the inside?”

"Maybe," Bret agreed with obvious reluctance. "Don't really want to put a lot of work into something we won't be staying at full time though."

“Yeah that’s true.” Shawn sighed, following Bret and realtor in the front door. “Oh wow that’s... that’s some wallpaper.”

Grimacing at the eyesore someone had chosen as wallpaper Bret shook his head. "Should've kept my sunglasses on," he muttered.

“Does that shit go through the whole house?” Shawn poked his head through the entry way into the living room. “Oh yeah, it’s in here too. Hey, does that carpet look like a booger to you, Bret?”

"That's one word for it," Bret agreed, sneering a little as though the carpet had personally offended him. "What the hell were these people thinking?"

“Why would you brick in your fireplace in Canada? Jesus, this is... the designer was on an acid trip. Had to be.”

"Might not have been the designer, someone might've gotten tired of the upkeep."

“Oh god, do you think the carpet is just that grungy? What if it’s supposed to be a white carpet?”

"Jesus, I hope not."

“Ew. I don’t want to think about that. I’m not sure I even want to see the bedrooms upstairs. This would be so much work for... none of what we want?”

"I don't even want to bother; this is nothing like we want."

“On to the next then!”

"Hopefully that one will be better because this? I’ve seen train wrecks that looked better.”

Pulling up to the next house, Bret looked at in consideration. "It's... better?" he said hesitantly, still gun shy after the disaster that was the first place.

“I mean... it’s big,” Shawn tried, looking over the outside. “It kind of reminds me of a ski lodge.”

"Little too big for just us." Bret shrugged. "I guess it can't hurt to look inside."

“I feel like it more would house your entire family. Not something we really need if we’re only up here a couple months out of the year.” Shawn frowned as he got out of the car. “Maybe it’s homier inside.”

"Yeah, let's not do that. I love my family, but I love not living with them even more." Stepping out as well, Bret looked at the porch with a small frown. "Am I seeing things or are there like four porches?"

“Why do you need four porches!” Shawn exclaimed in disbelief. “Why?”

"I don't know. Not like you can really use them once winter hits."

“I mean, there’s at least a couple fire places.”

"Why do you need more than one, though? I mean, I'm not opposed to maybe two, if there's one in our room or something."

“No clue.” Shawn shrugged. “It’s pretty ridiculous.”

"People with more money than sense, I guess. Come on, let's see if it's worth it."

“Look, I’ve got a lot of money. And some people say I don’t have much sense. But even I wouldn’t choose to have three fucking fireplaces.”

"That's a little surprising, I know you love them. And you have plenty of sense, just not for self-preservation sometimes."

“Well that’s fair.” Shawn hummed. “I dunno. I’m really just not feeling this one. It’s just... a lot.”

"Yeah, I agree with you on that. It's nice but too much. Next?"

“Right. Would be nicer if we actually wanted people to visit. Less so for just us.”

"Don't think mom won't come over. She'll warn us at least and won't just show up."

“We’ve already promised her that there will be a guest room just for her.”

"I know we have."

The next house was a good size as well, making Bret roll his eyes. "What part of it's just you and I didn't they get?"

“It’s a marketing ploy. Show us bigger houses and try to convince us to buy that inside. Too bad half our job is acting, and we can see through it.”

"That or they saw we had money and want a higher commission."

“Pretty much. Ugh. Maybe we really should just have something built.”

"If the next one we look at isn't worth it, I think we should seriously look into that. This is getting a little ridiculous." Sighing, Bret got out of the car. "Your knee holding up alright?"

“Cold’s making me a little achy, but I can still move around alright.”

"We're almost done either way, so soon as we're finished you can take something."

“Whoo nap time!”

Snickering in amusement, Bret led him inside. "I don't completely hate it. Still a little big. I like the idea of having our room away from everything though." Poking his head into the room in question, he laughed a little. "And there's a fireplace in here, Shawn."

“A fireplace in our bedroom?” Shawn gasped. “That does sound pretty great.”

"Another in the living room." Bret shrugged, looking at Shawn curiously. "I can live with it. What do you think?"

“It’s nice. Just... oh my god, look at the back porch. It’s HUGE.”

"Yeeeeaaah. That might be the deal breaker. The only thing worth it is the fire pit."

“It’s a beautiful fire pit. But there’s so much wasted space.”

Bret hummed in agreement. "Ready for the last one?"

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Pulling up to the final house, Bret raised his eyebrows. "This, now this could work. Only took all fucking day, but... what do you think?"

  
Shawn’s eyes were wide in awe. “It’s like a little log cabin! It looks so warm and homey... babe, this is adorable!”

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, still need to check out the inside," Bret cautioned with a small laugh as he got out of the car. "Got to make sure it has your fireplace."

“It’s got a chimney,” Shawn pointed out. “So I think it’ll have a fireplace.”

"I can see that, but you never know, they might've bricked it in again," Bret teased, leading the way into the house. "Or maybe not."

“Oh wow,” Shawn whispered as they entered the house. “Look! The door by the bottom of the stairs? That’s a bedroom.”

"Yeah, looks like this would be ours. The others are upstairs, must be. Don't think we'll ever get my mom out of that kitchen."

“We would hardly have to go upstairs! Look, it’s like a balcony. We could set up the gym right there so it’s open...”

"That's a good idea." Bret looked over at Shawn. "This is it, this is the one."

“God, this place is perfect,” Shawn whispered.

"Then it's ours."

“We get to start shopping for furniture too.”

Bret laughed, shaking his head. "Tomorrow. You need to get off that knee."

Shawn rolled his eyes fondly. “Well I didn’t mean right now.”

Bret rolled his eyes in return, draping an arm over Shawn's shoulders. "Never can tell with you, especially when it comes to stuff like this, so just making sure. "

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

_Please don't take this badly_ , Bret prayed silently as he put the car in park outside of Shawn's ranch. Vince had come to him shortly after he'd returned from Calgary, stating rather plainly they couldn't afford the twenty-year contract he'd signed and to seek out an offer from WCW. He hadn't wanted to, had been willing to take a pay cut, whatever it took but McMahon had been honest, saying that WWF simply didn't have the money. Shortly after he'd contacted WCW, he'd even swallowed his pride and called Nash and Hall who'd told him plainly: tell him before Vince does, or you risk losing him. The next day off he had on the road, he'd gone to a tattoo parlor and got Shawn's hbk logo tattooed on his calf. Hopefully... hopefully it would be enough.

Stepping out into the Texas heat, Bret shouldered his gear bag and headed inside. "Hey," he called out, unsure if Shawn had seen him pull up. "Babe?"

Shawn was lazing around the ranch house, washing laundry, and making a grocery list. He’d gotten home a day earlier than Bret and was using the time to do some housekeeping. By the time Bret came home, he was actually upstairs at his desktop computer and looking through furniture on a website.

“Upstairs, babe!” Shawn called. The windows were open, and the ceiling fans were on. Shawn was sitting comfortably in one of his pairs of short shorts and no shirt.

Heading upstairs, with a brief stop in their room to toss his gear bag on the bed, Bret soon found Shawn sitting behind the computer in the spare room they'd turned into an office. Leaning against the door jamb, he smiled a little at the sight. "Hey gorgeous. What're you doing?"

“Currently trying to furnish our summer home.” Shawn hummed, looking over at Bret and resting his chin on his hand with his elbow on the desk. “How was your trip?”

"Quiet, which I'm still not used to." Pushing off the door, Bret moved into the room, bending down to kiss Shawn gently. "Find anything?"

“Nothing that matches all the paneling.” Shawn laughed, leaning up and kissing his chin when Bret stood up. “It’s a little hard to match.”

"It doesn't have to match the house exactly, baby," Bret replied with a patient eyeroll before sighing as he leaned against the desk. "There's something you and I need to talk about. We're not splitting up or anything even close to that, but I have some news that you're not going to like."

"Vince approached me a couple weeks ago. They can't honor my contract, I guess WWF is hurting for money right now, and he told me to seek out an offer from WCW. I offered to renegotiate, to take a pay cut, whatever I needed to do but he said that unfortunately there's no way they can afford to keep me."

"I haven't signed anything yet, and nothing's official because I wanted to talk to you in person about it."

Shawn shrugged. “I just don’t want it to look ridiculous with the walls.” He stayed quiet while Bret spoke, a small frown on his face. “That’s... interesting. Because Vince gave me a pay raise just three days ago.”

Suspicions raised, Bret looked at him curiously. "He tell you he wants me to drop the belt to you?" He questioned. "Because that's the plan. Not while we're in Canada, but before I leave."

“No, he didn’t mention that.” Shawn shook his head. “He said we’d probably be moving the title off you for a while soon, but I thought it’d be moving to Mark.”

"No, he wants to put it back on you." Bret shook his head, frowning slightly. "Something seems odd about this whole thing with Vince."

“Cornette and Russo are probably in his ear about shit. Course, Cornette hates me so it still doesn’t make sense but hey. It’ll work out.”

"Cornette doesn't like anyone but himself," Bret muttered, still trying to puzzle out Vince's endgame before mentally shaking it off, turning a secretive smile on Shawn. "Anyway, doesn't matter right now because... I have a surprise for you."

“I’m sure there’s some kind of master plan that we just aren’t being told yet.” Shawn sighed, perking up at the word surprise. “Oh? What kind?”

"More than likely," Bret agreed. "After that whole thing with Vince, I figured you'd be pretty upset about me going to WCW. I remember that whole thing when Nash and Hall left, and so I got something to show I was serious about staying together." Tugging up his left pant leg, he turned his leg enough to show him the tattoo of Shawn's HBK logo. "See?"

“You got a tattoo?” Shawn gasped, leaning down so he could look more closely. “Oh baby... look at it. This is so beautiful! Took a page out of my book, huh?”

Laughing a little, Bret nodded. "Yeah, I did. Wasn't getting it on my hip and couldn't really get it on my side or anything. Figured this way it's covered unless I choose to show it off. You like it?"

“It’s amazing.” Shawn nodded eagerly, standing up and grabbing Bret gently by his face to give him an eager kiss. “It’s so sweet, baby. I love it.”

Kissing him back, Bret smiled. "Good." Resting his hands on Shawn's hips, he finally took note of the shorts he was wearing. "Jesus, baby, these shorts should be illegal, you know that?"

“It’s hot.” Shawn complained, stepping back, and spinning in a quick circle. “See? I’m all sweaty.”

"You're the one who has all the windows open," Bret replied weakly.

“The A/C couldn’t keep up.” Shawn shrugged. “Had a pretty good breeze going until a few minutes ago. Might have to ditch the shorts too soon. What do you think?” He smirked suggestively.

"I think if you're going to do that, we should move away from the computer before it gets broke."

“Oh of course you’re gonna be all responsible and shit now.”

"We did just buy a house," Bret pointed out as he pushed away from the desk and took a step towards Shawn. "And one of us has to be responsible."

Shawn laughed, reaching back for Bret’s hand, and leading him out of the office. “C’mon. I’ve got lemonade in the fridge downstairs. And some ice cubes.”

"You are a rotten damn tease, Shawn Michaels," Bret complained even as he followed.

“I’m just offering my poor Canadian some relief in this awful heat,” Shawn said innocently. “And I mean, hey, ice makes your mouth cold and I can think of some great places for cold kisses.”

"I wasn't complaining about being all hot and sweaty, you were," Bret remarked helpfully. "I was just going to offer to make you even more hot and sweaty."

“And I was offering to put an ice cube in my mouth and suck you off.” Shawn smirked. “But hey, if you’d rather not...”

"... I didn't say that," Bret amended rather quickly. "Didn't even imply that I would turn that down."

“Well, glad we cleared that up.”

"Yeah, me too," Bret agreed with a nod, gesturing Shawn on.

Shawn laughed, letting his hips sway casually as he walked down the stairs and to the fridge.

Rolling his eyes in fond amusement, Bret followed him. "So... not to spoil our fun, but what do you think about this whole WCW thing?" He questioned hesitantly. "I called Nash and Hall, they said it's not like it used to be but this stuff with Vince... I gotta admit, babe, it's bugging me."

“The Vince thing definitely doesn’t sit right,” Shawn agreed. “But I’m less upset about you possibly leaving than Scott and Kevin. But I think that has to do with you being honest about it.”

"Yeah, I was told very adamantly that I needed to be upfront about it," Bret agreed with a nod. "Not that I was planning on hiding it to begin with. I can't exactly expect honesty from you if you can't expect it from me in turn."

“Exactly. Give what you want to get and keep balance in the relationship.”

"So you're going to be okay with it?" Bret asked after a momentary pause. "I don't know what fucking game Vince, Russo and Cornette are trying to play, but my main concern is that you're okay."

“I don’t have any idea what the plan is,” Shawn admitted. “But I’m okay. I trust you, Bret.”

"I trust you too, baby," Bret assured with a small smile. "You know, with Survivor Series being in Montreal, it's only a three-hour plane ride to Calgary. Maybe after RAW, we can go home? Spend some time holed up where no one will bother us." Dropping his voice into a suggestive tone, he smirked. "I'll make sure to keep you nice and warm."

“I’d love that.” Shawn smiled brightly, laughing a little at the tone change. “Oh suuuure, you want me alone in a secluded cabin so you can have your way with me.”

"I don't need to have you in a secluded cabin to have my way with you," Bret pointed out. "Besides, I don't think you'd complain. Or if you did, you'd only do it to provoke me."

Shawn laughed. “Well yeah. Angry Bret is better in bed.”

Bret rolled his eyes, unable to keep from smiling. "I will admit, it's a little more fun when you're being a brat."

“It’s because you like spanking me.” Shawn paused, looking thoughtful. Y’know... we’re running out of time for title sex, babe.”

"You really want me to fuck you wearing the belt? I thought you were joking about that."

“Have you seriously never thought about it?”

"I mean, maybe once or twice after you mentioned it but.. I don't know why I'm surprised you're serious about it."

“Babe, it’s such a good ego boost. You’ll love it.’

"Fine. Guess it's a good thing it's already in our room." Bret laughed. "Maybe after I drop it to you, I'll be nice again. Not that you need any help in the ego department there, sweetheart." It was his turn to look thoughtful. "You know, you mentioned something about ice cubes and sucking me off but neither of those are happening. I'm beginning to feel a little neglected here."

“Someone started a conversation,” Shawn pointed out, walking over to the cabinet to grab a glass. “Would you like a drink while we’re at it?”

"Because we needed to have it, and I didn't want to interrupt sex for it," Bret replied with a shrug. "And to answer your question, yes."

“Yes, I’m okay. Yes, it was an important question. Yes, I still want to suck you off,” Shawn counted off, handing Bret a glass of lemonade. “Does that answer all your questions?”

"Yes, you brat," Bret muttered fondly as he took the glass.

“Happy to help!” Shawn grinned

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Shawn should have known from the beginning that tonight was off. Vince and others kept herding him away from the locker room. He hadn’t seen Bret since they’d gotten dressed before the show. The plan for tonight was simple. Shawn would have the upper hand in the match before Bret won with a sharpshooter. It seemed so simple. When Russo came to Shawn and told him that they wanted him to try a sharpshooter spot, he’d been worried and wanted to ask Bret or even Owen about the move beforehand because he didn’t want to hurt Bret but the timing kept being messed up.

Now Shawn was being hurried toward the locker room by Hunter and Joanie, too stunned by what had happened out there to even begin responding to the shouting and anger of the locker room.

“I need to... to talk to Bret,” Shawn managed to whisper.

“He’ll come back to the locker room any minute and you can talk,” Hunter assured. “For now, sit and breathe.”

Hand throbbing in time with his heartbeat after punching Vince and his yes man Patterson, Bret stalked angrily into the back. He could vaguely hear Owen calling his name, but he ignored everything and everyone as he went to his private locker room. He'd known something was off about today, but he'd brushed it off. Shawn was always - God, Shawn. He'd sworn he hadn't known but...

_No. Shawn didn't know_ , he told himself firmly. The horrified look in Shawn's eyes and him repeatedly mouthing 'did you tap?!' was proof enough. _He wouldn't do that to me_.

_Then where is he?_

Shawn finally made it through the crowd the locker room, shoving the door open and breathing a small sigh of relief at seeing the Canadian. “Bret. Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I just... god, this entire thing is such a fucking shit show.”

"I'm fine," Bret responded automatically, shoving his hair back and looking at Shawn. "What was that out there."

“I-I-I don’t know,” Shawn stammered, shakily pushing his hair off his face. His skin felt clammy, his head was throbbing and chest aching. “Russo talked to me right before the match. Asked if I had gotten the match update. One of those ‘had to use your own move to try and win’ spots that you’d counter for the win. When they rang the bell, I thought you must have tapped because I fucked up and hurt you!”

"I'm sore, but I'm okay," Bret replied, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "Something... something seemed off today. I thought I was just being paranoid, like you're always teasing me about." A bitter laugh escaped him as he moved over and sat heavily on the bench.

“I didn’t know,” Shawn whispered, sinking down to sit on the bench beside Bret. “Oh god, I didn’t- I didn’t want the belt. Not like this.”

Bret sighed heavily, dropping his head, only to lift it a second later. "Guess Vince didn't care what either of us wanted," he said bitterly, punching his thigh angrily. "I knew something was up, I fucking knew it. God damnit!"

"I'm not upset with you," he amended after a minute’s pause, momentarily forgetting Shawn was beside him. "You said you didn't know and I'm trusting you on this. I swear, though, if I find out different? You and I are going to have some serious problems."

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about Vince. He’s always been good to me. Looked out for me, y’know? I didn’t think he’d do something like this...” Shawn sniffed before looking at him in obvious distress. “Why even threaten like that if you trust me? You either trust me or you don’t, Bret.”

"You didn't want to think bad about him. I get it. And of course I trust you, Shawn," Bret replied patiently, already emotionally wrung out and just done with everything. "I'm sorry, I'm still just so fucking pissed off about this shit. That was unintentional on my part and I apologize."

Shawn nodded, slowly letting his shoulders drop their tension. “He never told me anything... I just... he mentioned the sharpshooter spot and it sounded awesome, you know? Really ‘pulling out all the stops’ kind of match.”

"You could've broken my leg," Bret told him with a huff. "I'll have to show you how to actually do it."

“I tried getting to Owen to ask about it,” Shawn insisted. “I know how much that move hurts when it’s messed up. That’s why I asked for your help in the ring.”

Bret held up a hand to stave off the argument. "I know, I know. I promise, I'll show you how to do it. I've got that no compete clause for the next three months, so I'll have plenty of time." Blowing out a breath, he shook his head a bit to clear it. "I don't want to argue with you, baby. We've been through enough shit tonight."

Shawn shook his head. “‘M not trying to argue. I’m just... I’m trying to figure this shit out. None of this is right or okay. I... fuck. I have to talk to Mark.”

"Mark's probably pissed off at Vince, not you," Bret pointed out realistically. "You want me to come with you?"

“Not if Vince didn’t tell him who planned it,” Shawn pointed out. “You think it’s outside the realm of possibility for him to blame all this on me?”

"Mark knows better." _I hope_. "Vince could try but I don't think Mark would believe it."

“Either way, I should talk to him.” Shawn sighed. “You can come if you want. Or just get showered. Whichever.”

"Hey." Bret shifted on the bench to face Shawn, bringing his hands up to cradle his face in his hands. "This shit isn't your fault," he stated quietly, "and I'm still here with you, okay? Tomorrow, after RAW, we'll go home together and just ignore everyone for a few days. Just like we planned."

“Fuck RAW.” Shawn shook his head. “We’re going home tonight. Vince gives me any shit for it and I’ll walk away right the fuck now. And he can’t afford to lose me now.”

Shrugging, Bret nodded. "Works for me," he agreed before turning his voice firm. "Go talk to Mark and come back to me so we can go home."

Shawn nodded, leaning in and kissing Bret softly. “I love you, Bret.” Then he quickly got to his feet and rushed out to go find Mark.

Freezing in place, Bret stared after him in shock, even as he began grinning for the first time since that morning.

Mark came out of Vince's makeshift office, shaking his head. _Of all the stupid, brainless things_ , he thought in irritation, resisting the urge to go finish what Hart had started. Moving to head to his own locker room, he hoped that Shawn and Bret were working things out. He hadn't had high hopes for them working, if he was honest, but they seemed to be. Admittedly, it was... nice seeing Shawn happy and well grounded. Nothing against Nash and Hall, but Bret seemed to get the heartbreaker in a way they hadn't.

“Mark!” Shawn managed to catch sight of the man as he exited Vince’s office and jogged to catch up with him. “Perfect timing. I was just looking for you.”

Turning to face Shawn, Mark nodded in greeting. "You found me," he rumbled. "And we're good, kid."

“Thank you,” Shawn whispered in relief. “I just had to make sure... Jesus. This is fucked.”

Mark hummed in agreement. "You talk to Hart yet? If the locker room sees you two are okay, might go a long way to soothing any ruffled feathers if you catch my drift."

“Yeah, me and Bret are okay.” Shawn nodded, giving a small and nervous smile. “I, uh, kind of said I loved him for the first time? Weird timing, right?”

"Could've been worse, I suppose," Mark told him with a small chuckle before waving him away. "I'll do what I can to help ya backstage, kid. Now, go on back to your man before you get yourself too worked up. It'll be fine."

“Yeah, thanks.” Shawn sighed, rubbing his face. “Jesus, this is bullshit. Me and Bret are headed to Calgary tonight. I’d like to sleep in my bed after that shit out there.”

"Can't say I blame you," Mark replied with a sympathetic face. "I don't know what Vince was thinking. Tried saying he didn't want him leaving with the title or some shit, like Hart would do that." Clapping Shawn on the shoulder, he gave him a gentle shove. "Go on now, get out of here. This place has done enough to both of you tonight."

Shawn nodded, hugging Mark quickly around his waist before hurrying back to Bret.

Coming out of the shower, Bret toweled off quickly. _God, what a fucking night_ , he thought wearily. The only bright spot in an otherwise shit night had been Shawn finally telling him I love you, even if he'd bolted like a skittish animal. Soon as he dressed and the other man returned, they were out of here and heading home.

Tossing the towel away, he reached for his clothes. _Soon as we get there, the phones are getting unplugged and staying that way._ He'd plug them in long enough to call his parents and explain what happened tomorrow but after that? He and Shawn would be unreachable for at least the rest of the week.

Shawn entered the locker room again, smiling faintly at Bret. “Can you get our bags put together and I’ll hurry and shower?”

"Already done," Bret replied with a nod towards their packed bags as he pulled a shirt on. "Go ahead and get showered, baby, then I'm taking you home."

“Thanks, babe.” Shawn smiled, hurrying to go shower. Despite the urge to stand under the hot water for hours, he showered quickly and went back to the locker room to get dressed.

"Hey," Bret told him quietly as Shawn came back from the shower, "I know we're going to be dead on our feet tonight when we get home but tomorrow, I'll get you out of your head. Think we both need it after tonight, yeah?"

“Yeah we can do that.” Shawn nodded. “We’ll see how it goes and if we’re feeling up to it.”

"You know, I'm proud of you. For finally being able to say it back. It really meant a lot to me to hear you say that." Bret smiled crookedly. "Though maybe next time, no running away?"

“I wasn’t running. We had agreed I needed to talk to Mark and I wanted to do it quick so I could get back.”

"Sure you weren't."

Shawn rolled his eyes, walking up to Bret and looping his arms around the Canadian’s neck. “Bret Sergeant Hart, I love you more than anything in the world. And I’m not running anywhere.”

Wrapping his arms around Shawn in return, Bret grinned at him. "I love you too, Michael Shawn Hickenbottom. Besides, you can't run away. Not with that tattoo on your hip showing that you're mine, or even the one on me proving I'm yours."

“You have a point.” Shawn laughed. “Can’t get away even if I wanted to. I’d come back. I’d miss you too much if I didn’t.”

"That makes two of us."


End file.
